


Head Down Low

by Rhensis



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Genetic Engineering, Genetically Engineered Beings, M/M, Non-Consensual, OCD, PTSD, Piano, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Smut, its actually kinda cute later i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 60,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhensis/pseuds/Rhensis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan isn’t right. He’s not like most of the others, he’s not genetically pure. He has no destined path, he has nothing going for him in life. He’ll be lucky to get himself a job in a fast food kitchen, and everyone looks down on him like he’s a piece of dirt stuck at the bottom of their shoe. Except one person: Phil Lester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Head Down Low](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1812826) by [silencelikeawhisper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silencelikeawhisper/pseuds/silencelikeawhisper)



Dan keeps his eyes on the floor.

No one wants to see him, so he helps them and makes their job easier. He's too tall to be inconspicuous, and too well known to avoid attention completely, but at least if he looks away he can't offend any of them. Although, his presence is probably offensive enough to them.

Not even the teachers want to go anywhere near him. He doesn't blame them, he's sure that they're not comfortable having an impure in their classes. The only reason he gets away with going here and not being in one of the 'special' schools (more like prison camps, but no one says anything) at the other side of the city is his parents, and how they are like the people around him. Normal. He was an accident, a mistake. Part of him wishes that his mother had just gotten rid of him when she had the chance.

He trips a little on his feet, and curses. Of course, he would be remarkably clumsy. He, the very person that needs to be as invisible as they possibly can. Falling over in the middle of a hallway crammed with teenagers wouldn't exactly be the best method of keeping himself hidden.

Still, he's survived six years here. He can survive this one too.

For the first time since he walked into the building this morning, he glances up and looks around. Everything is very much the same as it always was. The walls are high and painted a strange cream colour. Peppered along them are examples of the pupil's art work, pictures of smiling students and motivational words. _'Everyone has talent'_ he reads. He's tempted to mutter 'except me' under his breath, but decides against it. Talking to himself isn't low-profile.

Maybe he does have talent, anyway. He's not half bad at the piano, even he can admit that. It's just not the type of talent that they're talking about. That kind of talent is the talent manufactured before the students are even born, the talent found in their genes that their parents pay for. The technology is so cheap nowadays that there are so few people like him - naturally conceived children without any engineering - and he can feel how much everyone wishes there were _no_ people like him. He's not normal, he's a freak. Unclean. _Impure_.

He squeaks as he bumps into somebody. Freezing in his tracks immediately, he looks up and sees a black-haired boy, fringe hanging over his face, and his blood runs cold. Phil Lester. A pure, a normal. _Shit_.

"I'm s-sorry-" he stammers, but someone in the gang of friends laughs and steps forwards, past Phil. Within seconds he's right in Dan's face, his green eyes matching up to Dan's own dull-brown ones, and a hand is grasping the collar of his school shirt.

"Did you try to talk to one of us? Look at that, an impure having the balls to talk to one of us," the boy sneers. His face scrunches up as he does, as if he's suddenly smelt something bad, and Dan's heart drops. Still, he says nothing.

"Nothing to say for yourself? Come on then, we'll teach you a lesson," the boy growls, pulling Dan along down the corridor. A cheer erupts from the other students, many of them barely eleven years old, and Dan tries to stop tears welling up in his eyes. They probably don't know what's going to happen to him, but the worst part is that even if they did they wouldn't care. No one does.

The entirety of the gang follows them down the corridor, the sound of Dan's shoes squeaking as they're dragged along the floor resonating in the hall. He recognises all of them, even the boy holding onto him, as from his year, people that he's never spoken to and never absorbed the names of. Apart from Phil, the boy that won last year's mathematics challenge that Dan had been forced into by his parents.

Dan's heart thuds in his chest as he's hauled into a bathroom. This isn't the first time, he knows what comes next. Tears that he can't stop fall down his cheeks and someone bursts into laughter as they point it out.

The first boy, the one that pulled him in here, lunges for Dan, and the brunette just stands there and takes it. He has to, it's not like he has a choice. Impures refusing to do whatever normals want is not right, it's punishable by the law in certain circumstances, and this counts as one of them.

Hands bury themselves in his hair, and Dan's pushed down onto the floor, in front of the boy's crotch. What's his name? James, John, Jack?

_Jacob._

Jacob pulls down his own fly and shoves Dan's head right into his crotch. He glances down at him and grins, a cocky smile on his face.

"Do you want to suck me?" He asks, and the rest of the gang's eyes are focussed on Dan, ready for a response.

"Yes," Dan chokes out, hating himself for saying it but knowing it's all he can say. The other boys all start laughing and cheering, and Dan holds back sobs as he reaches his fingers into Jacob's boxers and pulls him out.

Reluctantly, the heat of the boy in his head making him want to vomit, he swirls his tongue across the tip of Jacob's cock, earning an exaggerated moan in response that prompts a few wolf-whistles from the idiots surrounding them. He knows not to tease, just to get on with it, that the quicker he does it the quicker he can get home and wash it all off himself, and he takes almost all of Jacob in his mouth at once, and the bit that he can't take comfortably he grabs with his hand.

Apparently that's not good enough for Jacob though, and he finds a hand on the back of his head again, pushing all of Jacob into his mouth. He gags, eyes burning and tasting his own tears on his lips as he works as quickly as he can. He can barely breathe, but the faster he does it the faster it's over. He knows that from personal experience.

Dan looks up and past Jacob's hips, seeing the crowd of boys with smiles on their faces and phones in their hands as they film him, and then Phil Lester stood in the corner, arms crossed and eyes on the ground. For a moment that distracts him, and he slacks off a bit. Pulling the same trick that he did a moment again, Jacob pushes Dan's mouth further onto his cock again, his tip hitting the back of Dan's throat and making him want to throw up. It's a miracle he doesn't retch right there and then.

"You're pretty for an impure, you know," Jacob sneers, sending Dan's stomach reeling even more. He looks at Phil again, pleading for the one boy that doesn't seem to condone this act to help him, but the second Phil meets his eyes he pulls his gaze away and looks back at the floor.

Before Dan really knows what's happening, the boy above him pulls out and then he's coming on Dan's face, making Dan splutter, but he doesn't look down. It's better on his face than on his hair, it's much easier to wash off that way. He learnt that the hard way.

When Jacob's finally done, he kicks Dan over onto his back and does his trousers back up, looking back at his friends and they erupt into a chorus of words that Dan doesn't even want to hear. As they all simmer down, he just about catches one thing though, "We'll leave you alone, Phil, so you can have your way with him,"

Dan screws his face up and in pain and rolls onto his side. His hands clutch at his hips and he tries to curl up, preparing himself for whatever the hell the black-haired boy is going to do to him now. He's used to this, but it doesn't make every time less painful, and he'll have to shower for hours tonight to remove this taint off himself. As if he didn't already have enough of that thanks to his genetics.

"Are you okay?" A soft voice asks, and he doesn't move. This is probably some kind of a joke, or a roleplay, maybe. He's had a few experiences of those too.

"What's your name? Dan?" Phil asks quietly, moving forwards and standing over Dan. The brunette flinches at the sound of the footsteps. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to make sure you're okay,"

"I'm okay," Dan forces bitterly. He's not, he's far from it. The kick to his stomach has probably left a bruise and it hurts like hell, and the burning hasn't faded from the back of his throat and he doubts it will for a while. He's marked by what's just happened to him, everyone will know. If they haven't already seen the footage from the boys' phones.

"Do you need some help?" Phil's voice is hoarse, and he takes a step further so the edges of his shoes dig into Dan's back. That makes Dan flinch away, curling up even more.

"No, thank you," Dan mumbles. He can't be rude, he can't just snap and tell him to just _leave_. Sure, he wants to help now, but he didn't do _anything_ when he really needed it. If Dan has any dignity left, he isn't going to let this boy try and show him any kind of mercy.

"You should tell someone, you know, about what they did," Phil suggests.

"I tried that. Twice," Dan moans a little as a sharp pain pierces his gut, and he turns so he's on his back, trying to minimise the pain to his side.

When he opens his eyes, he sees Phil standing above him, chewing his lips anxiously. There's pity written all over his face, and if Dan wasn't terrified of being punished he'd probably have told him to piss off, whether he's not allowed to or not.

"And they did nothing?"

"Of course not," Dan replies softly as if it's the most simple thing in the world.

"You don't deserve to be treated like that. I'm sorry, Dan," Phil closes his eyes and turns, walking away. Dan follows him with his own eyes until the last moment where he can't see Phil anymore, and then he lets his head fall backwards, letting out a proper sob that echoes around the bathroom.

After a minute or so, he pushes himself up. Tentatively, he lifts up his shirt and examines the red patch on his skin. He's had worse, and he guesses he'll be okay within a few days. In the mean time he'll just have to make sure his parents don't catch on, or they'll probably move him out of this school, and impure facilities make this place look like _heaven_.

At this point, going home and claiming he's ill is probably far better than having to go back into one of those classrooms. Besides, he feels ill. His head is pounding, his world and stomach turning, and everything is sore. Slowly, he walks over to the mirrors and splashes some water on his face. It does nothing to hide the fact that he's been crying, or how pale he is, so he rolls his eyes and limps out of the bathroom. He hopes that he looks presentable by the time his parents get home.  

He finds his bag discarded in the corridor. He hadn't even realised that he'd lost it, and when he picks it up he groans. He's surprised it hasn't been stolen, but his wallet has, and he's just lucky his phone was in his blazer pocket today. He wouldn't want to have to explain that one to his parents.

Home isn't far away, and of course when he reaches it no one is home. His brother is at school, and his parents are at work in some other city a few miles away. Or, at least, he thinks that's where it is. He usually zones out by that point in the conversation.

The first thing he reaches for is some ice-cream - to soothe his throat - and then he bounds upstairs, two steps at a time. When he reaches his room, he doesn't start to eat it though, he just stares at the en suite until he realises that he won't be able to do anything until he showers. He can _feel_ the dirt on his skin. 


	2. Chapter 2

He hasn't spoken a word all morning. Not that he doesn't want to - no, his voice was gone when he woke up this morning, and he hasn't left the room for fear of his parents wondering about the bruise that's still causing him to limp a little.  

They assume if he doesn't leave the room that he's not feeling up to coming to school today, so he waits until the front door slams shut before he dares make any noise.

He's straight to the piano when they've gone. As his hands linger on the keys for a second before he starts playing, he lets his eyes flutter shut, but then they snap right back open again? Phil? Why would he be seeing the image of the boy that didn't do anything to help him? He shudders and shakes it off, pressing down to start playing.

The notes start off forced and a little disjointed, as they always do when he practises like this. Then his fingers find the right combinations and they start to play out a sad little tune, its melody up and down and everywhere and yet still somehow fitting perfectly. For a few moments the notes are low and slow, controlled and contained, and for the next few they're high and fast, a rhythm skilfully kept.

Try as he might to push him away, Phil keeps jumping into his head, and he continues playing a little louder as he tries to figure out why. He did nothing to help, but then he did nothing to hurt either. And that's probably the first time that a normal hasn't tried to beat him, or worse, on spot for looking at them. Plus, he is pretty. Really pretty.

God damn it. Dan cannot be developing a crush. On anyone, let alone a normal. He hopes he's wrong.

He takes his fingers away from the keys and leans back in his chair. No, he has to think about this logically. He's only properly actually noticed Phil once. That's not enough for a crush. Plus, he knows nothing about Phil, he could be a total twat for all he knows. At the end of the day, helping Dan once doesn't make him a good person, and seeing him when he closes his eyes doesn't mean Dan has a crush on him. No, it's far more likely this is all just out of gratitude, a kind of love sickness that'll pass in a day, maybe a week, from the shock of someone actually kind of treating him like a human being.

With a low growl he smashes the keys in front of him in anger. Today, for all he knows at school, the person that spared him yesterday is laughing at the video of a cock being shoved down his throat against his wishes. Phil didn't help. No one ever helps.

He buries his face in his hands and pushes his palms into his eyes. The last thing he wants is to cry. That'd be absolutely pathetic.

Before he gets the chance to have tears fall down his face, his phone buzzes, and he smiles weakly. There's only one person that ever actually texts him, and that's the one friend that he has. He's not sure why she sticks around, after all, he's not much fun to be with and besides, she doesn't even go to his school anymore. She's an impure, just like him, but differently (and, really, more normally) it's purely because her parents couldn't afford the genetic engineering that would remove the label plastered on her.

_Carrie Hope Fletcher: u okay?_

For a second, he considers not replying. She's probably in school, and he doesn't want her to worry too much. Then again, he's probably worrying her more if he doesn't text her. He usually sends her a message before school to tell her he's okay, but it slipped his mind today and he doesn't want to push her away anymore than he already has.

_Dan Howell: not really. I'll see u later, usual place?_

Moments after he replies she texts back confirming than they can meet. Dan smiles a little as he puts down his phone, looking back at the keys.

Really, he should be working on the piece for his music class tomorrow. He can get away with one day off school, but any more and there'll be questions that he doesn't really want to answer. Considering the stereotypes of impures, he's a really bad liar.

He glances at the clock and closes his eyes. It's going to be hours before he can see Carrie, the only person that actually cares even just a little bit about him. His parents claim that they do, but he knows that if they did then they wouldn't have let him be born in the first. The only reason they did was to make some kind of political statement, and look how that turned out.

With a low growl at the back of his throat, he slams the lid of the piano shut and turns his back to it. He just wants to switch off for a while, to stop his brain going into overdrive, and the piano is definitely not the best way to do that.

With a swallow (that's a little more painful than it should be), he reaches for the nearest DVD.

-

Tight jacket buttoned all the way up, he stuffs his hands into his pockets and continues walking down the streets, head down. The bracelet on his wrist that he always has to wear when he's outside of the house marks him out, and as he tries to cut through the sea of people, they create a parting for him. None of them want to go anywhere near him, let alone accidentally touch him. If he looked up, he knows he'd be able to see many other impures experiencing the same thing. It should make him feel something, it really should, but he's so used to this by now that he'd probably feel more if it didn't happen.

He turns a corner that means he's away from the crowd, and yet he still keeps his eyes to the ground, just in case some normal happens to be walking down the street. If they saw him making eye contact than who knows what they'd do to him.

It's not that far to his and Carrie's meeting place. It's a small, modest park, on the outskirts of the town. No one really goes there, and especially not down by the lake in the middle of it, purely because of how dangerous it is. It's a beautiful spot though, the only place that Dan has to call his own. Out of the way of everyone else, it's one of the only places where he can actually just be himself.

She's already there. He sees her figure from quite a way away, her signature curls easily identifiable from a distance. He waves at her when she turns to face him, and she waves back. Dan can only imagine the small smile that her lips will be curled up into, and it makes him smile to think about it. She really is wonderful to him, the one spark of optimism that he has.

"Hey, Dan, what's wrong?" She asks as he gets close enough to hear her. She's still wearing her school uniform, comprised of an ugly brown blazer and a skirt to match, with knee high socks that on anyone else would probably just make Dan raise an eyebrow.

"They did it again," he croaks out, throat still sore. It usually fades by now, but he guesses it must have been particularly bad this time. If it was, he didn't notice at the time.

"Oh, Dan," she whispers, able to tell exactly what he means just by the hoarseness of his voice. He smiles weakly at her, and she holds out her arms to embrace him. He gladly accepts it, melting into her soft touch easily. He stands a good few inches taller than her, but for a few moments he feels much smaller than her, and he wishes that it was like that all the time.

"You have to tell someone," she whispers into his chest, and he sighs, shaking his head as he pulls back.

"Can't. If I don't get a detention for being impudent, then I'd just have the crap beaten out of me by them again if they ever found out that I told on them," he looks down at the ground again, and feels his friend's hand on his arm.

"You shouldn't let them treat you like this," he shrugs.

"It wasn't all of them, and I'd never want them to find out that Phil didn't-"

"Who's Phil?" She asks curiously with a sky smirk. He rolls his eyes, knowing exactly what she's insinuating. And maybe she's not all that wrong, but he's not going to admit that to her, not to anyone. Not even to himself, really.

"He's just a normal. He didn't... Well, he didn't force himself on me like the others expected him to. But he didn't stop them. Still, I wouldn't want him to get in trouble with them, not on my behalf, anyway," he shrugs it off and sits down on the ground, crossing his knees and hugging them up into his chest. The water in front of him is all too tempting, and he has to look away and back up to Carrie, who's smiling down at him knowingly.

"Is he pretty?" She asks cheekily, sitting down next to him and grabbing one of his hands in hers.

Bashful, he looks back up with a shy smile and nods, "Very, but it doesn't matter. He's a normal, I'm not even allowed to talk to him,"

"I know. But we can dream, right? There's nothing wrong with liking him Dan, nothing at all. Don't pretend there is. You can't help what your heart wants," she's always right, and it's a little infuriating. He doesn't even know for certain whether he likes Phil, and here's his best friend (or, rather, only friend) telling him that'd be okay if he does. He doesn't know what that says about what she's reading off him, but what he does know is that out of everyone on this planet she knows him best.

"But I'm more concerned with you being safe," she starts again after a minute or so, "have you told your parents?"

Dan scoffs, and she takes that as a no. She sighs, leaning into him a little. She knows that it'd be totally pointless to try and convince him to tell them.

"They'll be home soon, I should probably go back, just in case they notice that I'm missing," he sighs, but makes no attempt to move. He likes it here, with Carrie leaning against him and all her warmth spreading through his body. She's the only person that ever touches him that he doesn't want to flinch away from. She's comforting, and she's safe. If he could, he'd just stay here like this forever.

"I don't want you to have to go home to them," she whispers, nuzzling even further into his shoulder. He grins a little at her, silently remarking how cute she is.

"I don't want to have to go either. But I'll be okay, I promise. I always am, right?" He asks with a chuckle, and she sits up, hair falling over her face. She nods and pecks him once on his cheek.

"Stay safe, Howell," she says with a raised eyebrow as she stands up and leaves him there.

-

He takes a deep breath as he steps into the hallway. In his head he chants to himself to keep his head down and be careful where he's walking. He doesn't want to give anyone any excuses to hurt him today. He still can't talk properly, and he knows that the second he opens his mouth in the music class that he has next, everyone will start laughing. If they're not already, it depends on just how many people have seen that damn video.

No one says anything as he walks through the corridor, and he starts to fiddle with the bracelet around his wrist anxiously. This is almost too peaceful to be true, and part of him wonders whether this is some kind of elaborate whole school plot to make him feel even more like shit.

Somehow, he manages to his classroom without incident. His heart is beating slightly too fast as he walks into the room, just about on time, and takes his seat at the back of his class. It's been moved specially for him so he's not anywhere near any of the other students. He's not sure whether that's more for his benefit or theirs.

The teacher walks in a few seconds later, and he silently thanks whatever God there might be that he wasn't late. Music is the only lesson he can actually tolerate, mostly because of the fact that it's the one thing he's good at. Despite all the normals in here that are engineered to be good at the subject, he's the top of the class, and his piano playing is far better than anyone else's, although the teacher has a hard time admitting it. Dan doesn't blame him, he finds it unbelievable too.

"Dan?" That teacher asks, his voice a little sharper than it would be usually when talking to Dan. Dan's gaze snaps up and he meets the eyes of his teacher, who raises an eyebrow. When Dan doesn't move, he rolls his eyes and repeats himself, "Do you have your composition prepared?"

Dan's heart falls. He totally forgot about the damn thing, and now he has nothing. Quickly searching his mind for something to play, he remembers the notes from yesterday morning when his mind was still reeling, and he nods a little. Even if he can't recall it perfectly, he'll at least be able to improvise a little.

"Good. Would you like to show everyone?" The teacher nods towards the second piano at the back of the room. Dan's the only one that plays it, since he's not allowed to touch the one that everyone else uses. It feels almost as natural under his fingers as the one he has at home does.

He swaps onto the piano stool without a word and puts his hands to the black and white keys. He draws a deep breath before he starts playing, a little hesitant about showing this to everyone. Then again, they won't know what it means. Jacob, who's sat at the front of the room, probably sniggering about Dan behind his back, won't have a clue that it was written in the aftermath of what he did to Dan. Phil, who must be in here somewhere, won't know that it's about him, and that's how Dan intends to keep it.

The second he starts playing, the whole room falls into silence. He's not sure why, but when he's playing is the one time that no one will make fun of him. Perhaps it's awe, perhaps it's just that it's amusing enough watching an impure play piano without having to make extra jokes. He doesn't care either way, as long as they shut up long enough for him to lose himself in his little world.

The piece moves along as it did before, the high fast notes contrasting against the low slow ones as he constantly changes the rhythm. Somehow it still works, and it shouldn't, but it really does. He presses harder on the keys, ignoring the tears in his eyes, and plays the jagged minor chord notes as his heart speeds up again. Every bruise starts to radiate as he plays, all the pain in all his muscles intensifying.

They did this to him. The very people watching him. They caused all this pain and damn it if he's going to let them get away with not seeing what they've done to him.

He practically slams his fingers into the keys for the last few notes, and turns around to face his classmates. He only keeps eye contact for a few seconds before dropping it again, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to breathe in and out calmly. His hands are shaking, and his legs practically quake as he stands up and moves back into his chair.

His teacher says nothing, except to thank him for playing, and then he's beckoning the next boy up. Dan doesn't look to see who it is, he doesn't really care, but he can feel eyes on him, and that's what makes him look up tentatively.

It's Phil, he realises. It's Phil that's staring at him as he starts to play the instrument himself, playing a sweet little tune.

When the black-haired boy (who Dan notes has really, really nice eyes) smiles at Dan, the brunette feels his heart flip and his stomach turn, and he immediately drops his eyes back to his desk.

He really is fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally no nothing about the piano so forgive me if thats not v realistic im sorry c:


	3. Chapter 3

"I mean, he's not even _that_ good, I have no idea why Mr Thompson put him at top of the class," someone grumbles, and the others murmur in agreement. Phil just shrugs, and his gaze drops from the window to his food.

"He's not good at anything, he's an impure. He _can't_ be good at anything," someone else adds, and Phil recognises the voice as that of Jacob. He flinches a little.

"Piece of scum, that's all he is. Don't know what his parents were thinking when they didn't get rid of him soon as they could," the boy next to Phil grumbles, and other people start putting in with sentences of agreement. Phil keeps his mouth shut, his food suddenly becoming much more unappetizing.

It's not the first time his group has spoken about Dan, and he knows it won't be the last. Before he never even really noticed it, he kind of just smiled and went along with what was being said. But now, he can't help but feel more than just a little guilty for not telling them to shut up, for not contradicting what they're saying.

He doesn't understand where all the prejudice comes from, anyway. Surely, out of all of them, Dan is the _most_ genetically pure? He's the most natural human out of them, at least. They've all been engineered, programmed for their parents' preferences, whereas Dan was conceived naturally. Why should that make him any less pure that the rest of them?

Still, Phil knows that if he said anything, he'd end up just as Dan did in that bathroom the other day, or possibly even worse. Impure sympathisers aren't exactly revered, and he's all too aware of the fact that even just by not joining in the conversation and agreeing wholeheartedly, he's treading on thin ice.

"What did you end up doing to him, by the way Phil?" Jacob asks, and Phil looks up quickly, meeting the other's boy's piercing gaze. Words fail him for a moment, and he feels more pressing eyes on him, expecting a detailed account of whatever disgusting thing Phil did to Dan.

Phil shrugs and clears his throat, plastering a smile on his face, "Oh, just the usual. Wasn't really feeling up to doing anything particularly special, you know?"

Jacob grins, and he nudges the boy - Pj, the only one of Phil's friends that he doesn't detest - with a knowing raise of the eyebrows. Phil's stomach turns a little; he knows what's coming next. Before Jacob starts to speak, Pj shoots Phil a look of apology that Phil just nods to.

"Why are you so flustered, Phil? Got a thing for the impure?" Jacob sneers, and everyone else starts sniggering. A blush starts to creep up Phil's face as Jacob continues, "He ain't half bad for an impure, you know. Pretty, in fact. Plus, I bet you'd like having someone that would never say no-"

"I'll be back in a minute," Phil blurts out, pushing himself up out of his chair and almost knocking it over in his hurry to get out.

He feels absolutely sick to his stomach and he thinks about running to the bathroom, but then remembers that would be the most predictable place for him to be if anyone comes looking for him.

Instead, he turns a corner and starts to run towards the practise room. No one will be there, and besides, if he really wants to he can get his anger out with his mediocre playing skills.

Two weeks ago, what his 'friends' are saying probably wouldn't have bothered him all that much. But that was two weeks ago, before he even really noticed Dan's existence except for in the harsh words of the boys he hangs out with. He pushes his fringe back with one hand and takes a deep breath, stopping in the corridor for a moment and closing his eyes.

The acidic burning feeling in the back of his throat is dying down, but his stomach is still churning like no tomorrow. He remembers what they did to Dan, how they laughed. How they filmed it and then showed it to pretty much everyone. There's not a single kid in school not laughing at Dan behind his back, except for Phil. He can't figure out _why_ he's so reluctant to join in now, why this one impure is making his stomach twist into knots. It's stupid, and it's dangerous. He hates it.

After a moment, he keeps walking, not really looking where he's going. He doesn't look through the glass panes in the door before pushing it open to reveal the practise room, and stopping in his tracks.

Sat in the piano stool directly in front of him is the boy that Phil really could do without seeing right now. He's hunched over the instrument, pressing down on the keys firmly as he starts to play a jagged tune, one that Phil hasn't heard before. His chest rises and falls unnaturally quickly, but Phil doesn't realise why until he hears a single sob emit from Dan's mouth, which he guesses is slightly hung open, as it always is when he plays.

"Dan?" Phil whispers quietly. He shudders when Dan presses the wrong key in surprise and the sharp, minor note pierces Phil's ears. Dan whips around, mouth poised as if about to say something, but when he looks up and down at Phil, it's as if he's lost his words.

In the ringing silence, Phil just stares at Dan, at the way his hair is curled at the edges to the way that his shirt is so baggy on him Phil wonders if there's anything underneath it at all. He tries to force a smile onto his face, but Dan just shakes his head and turns around.

"I'll be going now," Dan mumbles, gathering up his sheet music and tucking it under his arm. Just as he tries to leave, Phil grabs his arm to stop him. Dan immediately snatches his arm back away, flinching as if he's been burnt. Instinctively, Phil takes a step away from him when he does that.

"No, wait," Phil draws in a deep breath, smiling softly, "What were you playing? You're really good,"

"Um," Dan hesitates. He knows he _has_ to answer, but he doesn't want to at all, and he doesn't think Phil would reprimand him if he didn't. Still, he supposes, better safe than sorry, "Just something I've been writing myself. It's a bit shit, to be honest. I'm not good at all,"

"Oh, but you are, you're so good! Listening to you in class the other day was..." Phil trails off. _Mesmerising_ , he wants to say, but he can't help but feel like that would freak Dan out, and considering how uncomfortable Dan already looks, he doesn't want to push it.

"Hm. Thank you, I guess. I should really be going, if you want to play,"

"No. I want to hear you play," Phil insists, and he pulls up the nearest plastic chair so it's beside the piano.

Dan visibly sighs, and he puts his music down, sitting back at the piano. All he wants to do is run away, to leave before whatever cruel joke is coming is played on him, but he can't without risking getting into trouble. He hates being yelled at.

"What do you want me to play, Phil?" He asks without looking up from the keys. His head is pounding from where he was crying, and his stomach is churning again since Phil is in the room. He's definitely not going to get used to it.

"Anything. I don't mind," Phil says with a gentle, encouraging smile, but Dan doesn't look up to see it. Instead, he just starts playing random notes, picking up a melody he heard the other day that he doesn't know the name of. It's rather basic, really, and pretty easy for him to play, but mostly it's impersonal, which is what he needs right now.

Once he's done, he glances up at Phil, smiling despite himself when he sees the way Phil's face is scrunched up in concentration. It's cute, Dan notes, the way that Phil's nose is all wrinkled and his eyes are slightly narrowed.

"See, really good! Much better than me. Much better than anyone I've actually heard play in person, in fact," Phil reassures, leaning forwards a little. Dan shrugs and has to look away again.

"Maybe. I'm far from the best, though. Far from the best," Dan shakes his head and he starts to pick at a loose thread on his school jumper with a sigh.

"You're top of the class, and for good reason too. Don't put yourself down. No matter what everyone else says," he adds the last bit with a little hesitance, worried that he's overstepping the mark. It seems to be the right thing to say, though, when Dan looks up with a small, yet bright smile that makes Phil return one.

They fall into another silence, but it's a more comfortable one than earlier. Phil can't help himself but stare at Dan, who this time doesn't look away. He wonders how anyone, _anyone_ , can say that this boy isn't genetically pure. He's practically perfect, in Phil's eyes.

"Lunch will be over soon," Dan mumbles quietly, gathering his things up again. He reaches for his bag, which Phil hadn't noticed before, and puts the sheets of paper in it. Phil doesn't try to stop him this time, instead he just watches as Dan puts away his things and slings the bag over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow somewhat expectantly at Phil.

"I don't think either of us want to go back to lessons," Phil chuckles, glancing up at the bell that's going to ring at any second.

"It's better than being out in the corridors where people like you can do whatever the hell you fancy," Dan remarks without thought. He slaps his hand over his mouth as soon as the words slip past his lips.

 _Shit_. That was really, really out of line. Phil's probably going to punch him for that, or worse-

"I understand. I wish I didn't have to, but I do. I really wish they wouldn't, but I can't change them, I can't stop them. Even if I tried, I'd just end up like..." Phil trails off, glancing at the way Dan is subconsciously clutching at his side lightly. He gulps.

"No, you wouldn't,"

"I would, Dan. Don't ever think anything else. I'm terrified of them, you know. And I don't know why I'm admitting this to you, but I walk around this place wondering when someone's going to read my thoughts and throw me into a wall for it. It could happen at any time, just like it could to you. It's not fair, and it's not right. But it's the truth,"

Dan doesn't say a word. He shouldn't have started this conversation, and he shouldn't continue it, either.

"Anyway. If you have time, do you think maybe you could help me with my piano playing? I'm kind of nearly at the bottom of the class and Mr Thompson thinks that improving that will help pull myself up a bit," Phil asks light-heartedly, as if the previous conversation hadn't even happened.

Somewhat reluctantly, Dan nods. He doesn't want to spend any more time with Phil than he has to. Being with him 24/7 isn't exactly going to help repress his feelings.But still, he _has_ to do what Phil says. Phil might be nice, but Dan still doesn't want to take any risks.

Besides, what harm could a little piano playing do?

 


	4. Chapter 4

 "What's your favourite colour?" Phil asks curiously, and Dan sighs. His eyes flick to the door, which his classmates are going to come flooding in through any second. The warning bell went about thirty seconds ago and Dan's all too conscious that if they walk in on he and Phil sitting together at the back of the class, they will both have hell to pay.

Not that this was his idea anyway. Phil just invited himself to sit down next to Dan, and really the brunette had no choice but to let him. Besides, he doesn't mind being around Phil all that much, but he hates the fact that he can't look him in the eye without getting stupid butterflies and a fluttering heart.

"Black," Dan replies simply, tapping his fingers along the edge of the desk. He's sat as close to the wall as he can be, and as far away from Phil as possible (which isn't very far considering the fact that Phil seems to keep leaning into him). His eyes are still trained on the door, one ear on the conversation he's meant to be having, and the other focussed on the sounds from outside the classroom.

"Favourite band?" Phil continues, leaning back a little. Dan pulls his eyes away from the door to look at Phil instead.

Music is the one thing that he ever feels comfortable or confident talking about. It's not very often he gets to have a conversation about it, considering the fact that Carrie likes next to nothing that he likes, and she'd much rather talk about other things anyway. Her singing voice is divine, but they both know that there's no way she'll ever be able to make any use of it as an impure, so Dan reckons that she probably avoids the topic so that she doesn't get her hopes up. He can't blame her.

"Muse," he says after a moment of deliberation, chewing the inside of his cheek. Phil's smile widens considerably.

"Same. Matt's like a fucking god. You have good taste. How about favourite food?"

Dan shrugs. "Don't really have one,"

"How can you _not_ have a favourite food? Literally all I do all day at home on the weekends is eat, it's so bad," Phil rambles, and Dan looks away with a shrug.

Dan's phone buzzes, and he pulls it out of his blazer, smiling a little when he sees that it's a text from Carrie. He can feel eyes on him as he unlocks it and reads it, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing at her somewhat provocative description of her male drama teacher.

"Who's that?" Phil asks, and Dan yelps when he realises that Phil is actually reading his message from over his shoulder. He quickly pockets the phone and tries to shrug off the question, but Phil's expression is insistent.

"Just a friend," Dan whispers hoarsely. Phil's face falls a little.

"Girlfriend?" He asks quietly. Dan feels his face start to heat up, a blush spreading from his cheeks.

"No! No, she's honestly just a friend. Besides, I'm far from straight, Phil," Dan chuckles, shaking his head a little. He'd assumed that Phil knew (he didn't keep it a secret, there wasn't any point) and he finds it slightly endearing the way his face fell when he thought that Carrie might be his girlfriend.

Phil nods with a shy smile. Dan returns it, but it falls the second he hears the door opening.

"Shit," he curses under his breath.

The door opens fully, and Phil sees why Dan swore. His friends, of course. They're laughing, some of them still with headphones on, and they don't notice the pair of them sat there for a moment. They're both frozen in place, and even though Phil knows that he should walk away and save Dan the trouble that they're going to give him for being near Phil, he doesn't even think to actually do it until it's too late.

"Lester? Why are you with the impure? Discussing what you're going to do to him next time?" Someone jibes, and the few of them that are listening laugh along. Out of the corner of his eye, Phil sees Jacob raise an eyebrow at him, but he ignores it.

"I'll see you later, Dan," Phil mumbles, but Dan says nothing, not even daring to steal a glance at him as the boy leaves to go and sit with his friends.

There are still eyes on him, he knows it. Phil's probably going to get grilled now, he's probably totally fucked. All because he spoke to Dan. Gritting his teeth, he looks down at the desk and tries to ignore the tears pricking his eyes. He's so fucking worthless it's almost painful.

A chorus of laughter breaks out, and he squeezes his eyes shut. Of course. Phil's probably laughing about him right now, sharing some kind of inside joke about how disgusting the impure is. Dan tries to make himself smaller, hunching over even further and drawing his knees up to his chest so his feet rest on the edge of his seat.

-

"He sounds nice," Carrie nods a little as she talks, curls bouncing a little and her eyes not on Dan but instead on the corner of the ceiling as she thinks.

Dan shrugs. He keeps trying to avoid the topic of Phil - one that Carrie seems pretty obsessed with - but he's not having any luck. Figuring it's probably best to just give the most neutral and simple answers as is possible, he's spent most of the time shrugging his shoulders or shaking his head or nodding once, up and down.

She's not satisfied with that, he knows. But he doesn't really have anything to say, anyway. Talking about Phil means having to think about Phil, and having to think about Phil means having to ponder his stupid feelings that he can't get out of his head.

Whether Phil is nice or not, he knows that someone that is genetically pure would never want to be with anybody who isn't. It just isn't done, it's not normal. Dan can think of one case of it, and it was national news. The couple were scorned, they were battered by the media, until eventually they gave up on their relationship because they just couldn't take it anymore.

Dan thinks that he'd rather just have no relationship than one that is constantly scrutinised and criticised. He'd much rather die alone than have to deal with the repercussions of ever acting on his feelings for anybody that's pure.

"So, he wants you to help him with his piano? Do you know when?"

"No idea," Dan replies truthfully. Honestly, he's been on edge for the past week ever since that conversation in the practise room, half-expecting Phil to show up at his door and ask for a lesson right there and now. Part of him thinks that as soon as Phil isn't at the bottom of the class anymore, he'll just dump his attempts at friendship with Dan and go back to his old friends, and so he kind of hopes that Phil will take his time over turning up.

At the same time, he just wants it over with. He hates being messed around, and though he can't do anything about it, he can at least shorten the amount of time he has to deal with it for. The best thing would be to teach Phil piano as quickly and effectively as he can, and then slam his door shut on the black-haired boy for good. Yes, that would _definitely_ be for the best.

"You alright there, Dan?" Carrie asks, a hint of concern in her voice, and Dan looks up at her with a quiet hum. She smiles at him, reaching forward to grab one of his hands. "Do you want me to stop talking about it?"

He nods, and she lets go of his hand and smiles, just leaning back and looking at his face curiously, as if waiting for him to pick a topic. He doesn't have anything, and he just raises his hands up desperately, shrugging slightly.

"Great. The one day you don't have anything to talk about is the one day I don't have anything to talk about," she giggles, looking down at her phone, "Oh shit. Have you seen the time? I'd better go,"

Dan feels his stomach churn with disappointment, but he nods and stands up. He reaches out an arm to help her stand up too, and she pulls him in for a hug when she's on her feet. Stiffening in her grip, she awkwardly places his hands on her back, squeezing a little.

"See you soon, I promise," she says with a smile, pulling away and skipping out of the door without another word. It's practically her home now, she spends so much time in it when Dan's parents are out, so it's not exactly a surprise to him that she treats it as such. Besides, he wouldn't want it any other way, really.

He reaches for his iPod, and he absently starts to look through his music as he throws himself down on his bed. With a smile, he picks a song and leans back into his pillows, closing his eyes and for a few minutes, just letting images of Phil fill his head.

Phil's straightened and dyed black hair that looks like it'd be really soft to the touch. His wide blue eyes, ones that contain oceans vaster than those Dan has seen in pictures. His pale skin that glows in the light when it pours in through the classroom windows. His silly smile when he's giggling with his friends, tongue poking out between his teeth and being hidden by hands that swiftly fly up to cover it. His long neck, his wide back, his strong legs, his large hands.

Dan lets out a sigh and a smile creeps onto his lips as he thinks about all of those wonderful things. He mouths along to the song, knowing the words better than he probably knows himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a filler chapter so there's nothing particularly exciting, that all starts in the next one. Enjoy c:


	5. Chapter 5

"Wake the fuck up!" Dan groans when he hears someone pounding on his door, rolling over onto his side. His hand goes straight up to his eyes, trying to shield them from the light pouring through his bedroom window and making his head throb.

Great. Bloody great. Another headache, another day of being kicked around by his brother and another day of wishing that he could see Phil more.

He's really pathetic.

"Come on, Dan, I need you to clean my room whilst I'm out!" Alex moans loudly, and Dan pulls the duvet up over his head, keeping his eyes firmly shut. What he wants is a paracetamol and to go back to bed, not clean out his lazy shit of a brother's room.

Alex is everything Dan isn't. Pretty, smart, popular, and most importantly, pure. Dan doesn't know how his parents can say that they're against genetic engineering and then have their second son made in a test tube; it makes so little sense to him. If they had just stayed consistent, he probably wouldn't even be alive.  That sounds like quite a nice alternative to this shit.

Another bang on his door lets him know that pretending to be asleep is not going to work this morning, so he grabs the corner of the duvet cover and peels it away from himself, trying to ignore the pain in his head. Sleepily, he staggers towards the door and rests his head against it for a moment before opening it just a crack.

"What do you want me to do?" Dan asks quietly, and he sees his brother squint at him a little.

"Tidy my room. I literally just said that. I'm going out to see my friends, if mum and dad ask where I am I'm studying at someone's house or something, alright, just make it up," Dan barely takes in a single word of what's being said, but he nods anyway, leaning against the door frame.

His brother doesn't stop to ask him if he's okay, just passes him a quick smile and runs down the stairs, thudding louder than is really necessary. Dan groans in pain and reaches his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

It's not that his brother is a bad kid. That would be unfair on him, since Dan knows that the way he behaves is completely normal, completely acceptable. Even Dan's parents can't do anything about it, because that's just the way things are, and Dan is a lower class than his entire family.

Besides, in every other way, Alex is a _great_ kid. He gets good grades, never gets in trouble, spends a bit too much time with his friends but still manages to do all of his work. He's probably going to go to a good university and get a good degree and live a good life. Everything that Dan won't ever have.

So maybe that's what fuels Dan's hatred for his brother. Jealousy.

He shakes off the thought and fumbles around in his drawer for something to wear. Saturdays are the worst days. Carrie has other friends that she only gets to see on Saturdays so he never sees her, and his brother usually spends the whole day bossing him about. He usually ends up crying into a pillow whilst listening to loud music on these days, and with this raging headache he's acutely aware that he probably won't even be able to do that today.

He throws on a worn t-shirt and some old jeans, not fussing with his hair because it's not like anyone's going to see him today (plus he'd rather not look in the mirror, anyway). As soon as he's dressed he slowly stumbles downstairs towards the kitchen, looking for some painkillers for this stupid headache.

It takes far too long to find them, and he can barely stand up by the time he's got his water. He somehow makes it to the living room and throws himself down on the couch, a small noise escaping his mouth at the relief of not having any lights on. He doubts anyone's even been in here yet this morning (luckily for him as he doesn't think he would be able to get up and turn off the lights right now).

Eyes falling shut, he takes his pills and puts the water back on the floor.

_Stupid migraines, stupid brother, stupid Dan._

-

The cold water on his face is as good a wakeup call as any, he supposes.

Gasping for air, he sits up and fumbles around for anything to grab hold of, blinking the water furiously out of his eyes. Who on earth could have-

"I told you to tidy my bloody room, it's still a mess. Have you been sleeping all day?"

Of course. His brother. But wait, does that mean-

He glances at the clock and sees that it's mid afternoon. With a groan, he falls back into the couch and squeezes his eyes shut again. The pounding of his head has reduced to a mild throb, but it's taken a whole day of sleeping to get rid of it, and he can tell from his brother's tone of voice that the younger boy is pissed off.

Dan can't blame him. Alex is home earlier than he usually would be, and if he'd happened to get home later Dan's parents would have already been back, and they would have seen the state of his little brother's room. If Alex got into trouble for it, it would be all Dan's fault.

"I'm sorry, shit, I'm sorry, I'll do it now," he stammers, rolling off the couch and looking down at his shirt. It's soaked through, but there's no time to change it, not when his parents will probably be home in less than half an hour.

"You'd better be. You're so fucking lazy, Dan," his brother growls, taking the bucket that Dan guesses had been full of water a few moments ago out of the door.

Without even really thinking about it, Dan bolts upstairs and starts to put away the various items just scattered around the floor, left for anyone to trample on them. He shakily folds the clothes and puts them back in the full drawers, ignoring the growling of his stomach and focussing on the job at hand. He's pretty much on autopilot, and it doesn't take very long to finish the whole room, but he knows when he hears the clicking of the door downstairs that he's only just done in time.

Letting out a sigh of relief, he closes his brother's door quietly and walks back to his own room, making sure to shut his own door behind him equally as quietly. The best thing for Dan to do is pretend not to exist, he knows that, except for during the meal times that he has to participate in.

His stomach makes noises again and he groans. No way he's going downstairs now, and besides, he wouldn't be allowed any food as it's only a couple of hours before dinner.

Sitting down on the bed, he reaches for his iPod and flicks through it, looking for something loud and numbing. He settles for a _My Chemical Romance_ song, and lies back.

He keeps the volume lower than usual, and he's thankful for it because otherwise he wouldn't have heard his phone ring. Nose crinkling a little in surprise, he reaches for the phone and sees that it's an unknown number.

"That's strange," he mumbles under his breath. The only person that ever rings him is Carrie, and she's probably still out with her friends. Besides, her number is one of the very few already in his phone.

"Hello?" He asks tentatively as he puts the phone to his ear. For a moment all he can hear at the other end of the line is the crackling of someone's breath, and he almost puts it down, but then a familiar voice makes him freeze.

"Dan? Someone told me that this was your number," Phil asks quietly, and the corner of Dan's lips prick up into a smile.

"Yeah, it is. What's up?" Another few seconds pass before he gets an answer, and he opens his mouth to repeat himself, just cut off by Phil's reply.

"I was wondering if it'd be okay if I came to your house tonight for those piano lessons. Obviously I don't just want to turn up to your house totally out of the blue," Phil says, breathing a little heavy. It sounds like he's running somewhere, and Dan wonders if Phil does some kind of sports club or something.

"Sure. And hey, are you okay, you sound a bit... Out of breath?" Dan wonders if it's crossing a line to ask, but this is Phil, so he probably won't mind.

"Oh, sorry, I'm just trying to clean my room before my parents get home. They won't let me out if it's a mess and honestly, it's a total tip here, you wouldn't believe it unless you saw it," Phil chuckles, and Dan smiles, imagining a red-faced Phil running about a room to tidy all his things away.

"Sounds like fun. I'll see you later, then," Dan says quietly, biting his lips.

"Yeah. I'll be round in a couple of hours," Phil replies, and then Dan hears a small thud before it hangs up. Dan giggles as he realises that Phil probably dropped his phone, and he smiles widely as he lets the image of how Phil's probably fumbling with the phone right now and cursing his breath.

Putting his headphones back in, Dan doesn't lose his smile. He quickly picks up the iPod and changes the song, settling for something a little happier to pass the time whilst he waits for Phil.

Barely three songs have played before there's someone hammering at his door, and he groans as a wash of déjà vu passes over him.  Of course.

"Dinner's ready, and if you don't come now it's going to get cold, so hurry up," his brother's _delightful_ tones interrupt his music, and he takes out his headphones, grabbing his phone and stuffing it into his pocket just in case Phil happens to call again.

He doesn't even think to add the number to his contacts until he's halfway down the stairs, and then he hesitates a little, wondering if Phil would want Dan to have his number saved like that. Still, how would he ever know?

"Don't listen to your music so loud, honey, we've been calling for ages," Dan's mother says quietly as he walks in, and Dan just nods, taking his seat.

Somehow, Dan got the luck of having to sit right opposite his little brother, and the second he's sat he feels someone start to kick him. His legs are littered in the bruises from it, and he shakes his head when he realises that he's going to get even more, as Alex isn't exactly kicking lightly tonight. As Dan's mother reaches over Dan's shoulder to put the final dish down on the table, Dan dares to look up at his brother's face, and he just sees a smug little smirk on it.

Trying to repress a growl on contempt, Dan looks back at his mother instead as she sits down. He waits for everyone else to get their food before he gets his, and even then despite how hungry he is he only puts a small portion for himself, just in case his brother wants more later.

Another kick to the leg and he winces, ignoring the small talk his parents are trying to hold. His brother joins in occasionally with his high-pitched laugh, and Dan can feel his headache starting to come back.

"So how's school, Dan," his father asks, and Dan looks up with his mouth hanging open a little. It's very rare he's ever directly addressed, especially by his father, and he doesn't even know how he could answer that question. He's not meant to lie, but he can't exactly tell the truth, can he?

He feels his brother kick him again when it takes him a moment to reply. With a flinch, he shrugs and forces a smile, "Just the same as always, I suppose,"

Before Dan's dad can ask any more questions, they all hear the doorbell ring. Four brunette heads turn to face the doorway, and Dan knows that it has to be Phil. He smiles, pushing himself up out of his seat and practically sprinting to open it.

Fiddling with his hair a little, he reaches for the door handle and grins when he sees the black haired boy standing at his doorstep.

"Hey, Dan," Phil says cheerily, and Dan's breath his caught in his throat. Out of his school blazer and tie Phil looks even more attractive, wearing low-slung jeans and a top that's too tight for him so highlights his broad shoulders. His hair is a little ruffled in a way that makes Dan's stomach swoop, and his glasses have been replaced by contacts, Dan would assume.

"Oh, hi," Dan forces out when he realises that he's been staring like a goldfish for at least a moment. He takes a step back to allow Phil in, and then he remembers his family, still eating dinner and probably waiting for him to come back.

Without a word to Phil, he quickly pokes his head round the door of the dining room with a smile.

"It's just a friend of mine. You don't mind if I leave dinner early, mum?" He asks a little apprehensively, but his mother smiles and shakes her head.

"Sorry, we were just having dinner. Uhm, so what do you want to do?" Dan mumbles, walking back to Phil, who's looking around curiously.

"Well, what do you want to do?" He asks, eyes going back to Dan. Dan shrugs, rubbing his foot on the carpet uncomfortably.

"Whatever you want to do, I guess. We can do some piano, or-"

"Sounds good. I like hearing you play, you're so good. How did you learn?" Phil asks, and Dan shrugs, leading the other boy away from the hall and up the stairs.

"I just kind of learnt, I guess. I've always had a piano, so it was just something to pass the time. It's fun, but I'm not very good at it, to be honest,"

Dan can see Phil open his mouth to reply, but he seems to falter, as if unsure what to say. Looking away, Dan opens his bedroom door and moves out of the way for Phil to walk in first, biting his lip nervously.

No one else but Carrie comes in here, and looking at it now Dan realises how stupid it looks. The walls are plastered in posters, the bed sheets need changing and have a stain on them from when he ate his lunch up here last week, and his books are all in a messy heap by his desk. The only part of the room that is still tidy is his piano, and it has a small zone around it that hasn't been touched by the mess.

He half-expects Phil to scold him, but instead the black-haired boy smiles and nods, turning back to Dan. "This is exactly what I expected," he chuckles, and Dan wants to ask what the hell he means, but he knows he can't.

"So," Dan says quietly, "Shall we play some piano?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters within a week ayyy (im on half-term so here you go. thanks for reading <3


	6. Chapter 6

Phil runs his finger along the shelf next to Dan's bed, collecting the dust on his fingertip. He smiles slightly when he pulls it away and has to rub the dirt off onto his jeans (they're black, so no one's going to notice). The entire room is exactly what he expected it to be, crammed full of possessions that are scattered all over the place. From the way Dan is hurriedly running around, trying to put everything away, Phil would guess that the mess embarrasses him, but Phil just finds it endearing, almost homely.

The instrument is against one of the walls, and there seems to be a zone around it cleared, probably just for Dan's ease of access. After Dan's managed to put a few things away, he hurries over to it, sitting down and lifting up the cover without even thinking to ask Phil what he wants help with. He's slightly overwhelmed having anyone but Carrie in his room, and he's not entirely sure what he's meant to do, what the common graces and courtesies are. Should he offer Phil a drink? A seat? Tell him to make himself feel at home?

None of those things seem right, so he just says nothing, pressing down a couple of keys to start getting into his own rhythm. Sometimes it takes him a while to get into it, especially when other people are watching, and he knows that Phil seems to enjoy watching Dan play, so he guesses that he won't mind.

"What is it you're playing for class, Phil? Maybe I can show you how I'd play it..." Dan trails off, wondering if that sounds arrogant, assuming that his method of playing whatever piece it is would be better than Phil's. Phil doesn't seem to notice, although Dan's almost positive that he's probably made a note of it, added it to the long list of things that Dan's done wrong, the number of times that he's been rude or out of place.

Either way, Phil pulls out a piece of paper as he walks up behind Dan. He leans over and rests the page on the piano, but Dan takes it in his hand and starts to read the music, chewing the inside of his cheek. He smiles lightly when he realises that it's a relatively easy piece, nothing that he shouldn't be able to get almost perfect first time.

Putting the sheet music back where he can see it, he presses down on the keys for the first couple of notes, trying to get a feel for where he should rest his hands for it. Then he's off, playing the piece as if he's played it a thousand times, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the fact that Phil is _definitely_ staring at him.

Phil watches as if it's the last time he's going to see Dan play, keeping his eyes wide open and focussed on Dan's hands as they glide across the keys, barely even pressing on them and yet still managing every note, every small detail in the music easily flowing from Dan's fingers. He wonders how on earth someone can be that good, how they can just pick it up so easily, and in the back of his mind he can't help but wonder how an _impure_ of all people has that kind of talent. It's not a thought he wants to encourage, but he can't help but ask himself it. After all, his whole life he's been told that, no matter what he personally believes now, impures are secondary, they're not as good. After all, how _could_ they be as good as people that have been specifically engineered for a purpose? There are people Phil knows that were engineered for musical talent and have _nothing_ on Dan.

The piece finishes far too soon, and Phil looks up away from the keys. Dan's mouth is hanging slightly open, his eyes are slightly closed, and it crosses Phil's mind for a second how _beautiful_ he is-

"See? It's not too hard, just got to get into the flow of it. It's a flow-y piece, if you get me. Should be played with feeling and stuff..." Dan trails off when he notices Phil's stare. He looks up to catch it, and Phil doesn't look away as Dan would have done himself. Instead, he just makes eye contact with Dan and holds it, a soft smile on his face.

In fact, it's Dan that has to break the stare. He stands up, pushing his piano stool backwards, and gestures for Phil to sit down. Without even a second's hesitation, Phil happily obliges, stepping forward away from where he's been standing and taking a seat in front of the instrument.

"I just can't get into it as easily as you can. I have to read over it a thousand times before I can even start to play it, and then when I do I start forgetting bits and I have to start all over again if I make just one mistake," Phil grumbles, pressing his fingers to the keys tentatively, but not pushing down enough to get a sound out of the piano.

"No, you don't," Dan shakes his head, moving away and sitting on his bed. He tucks his legs up onto it and crosses them, folding his hands in his lap before he continues, "If you make a mistake, just keep going. Pretend you never made it. Unless it's absolutely horrific, no one's going to notice anyway. And it looks far worse if you stop than if you just keep going," Phil turns around as Dan speaks, and Dan stops himself, wondering if he's said something wrong. On impulse, he quickly adds, "Only if you want to, I mean. That's just how I look at it,"

"Dan, you're far more of an authority on these matters than I am," Phil chuckles, shaking his head and looking back round to the piano. He presses the keys down once or twice, playing a couple of notes, but then shakes his head again with a groan. "I can't do it,"

"Of course you can. Look," Dan shuffles off his bed, and waits for Phil to move his hands before he leans over Phil's shoulder and starts to play the first few notes himself. He makes sure to position himself so he's not touching Phil, and once he's got himself in the most comfortable way he can that means he's not too close but he can still reach the piano, he continues to play. He lets the first few bars ring out before he stops, looking up at Phil with a smile.

He has dimples, Phil realises, when he looks properly at the corners of Dan's mouth when he smiles up at him. The brunette's hair is falling across his face, hiding his eyes a little, and Phil thinks that this is the first proper, genuine smile he's gotten out of him.

"Show me again," he whispers, waiting for Dan to keep playing. Dan obliges, somewhat begrudgingly, figuring that the only reason Phil's doing this is because he wants to watch him play more. Not that he's against someone taking an interest in him, but he has to admit it's more than slightly creepy.

Phil stands up, trying to move so Dan can sit back in the seat, but the second his shoulder accidentally nudges Dan's, the other boy stops playing, the notes ringing out jaggedly. He almost jumps back, looking like he's been burnt rather than just been lightly touched by a friend, and Phil's eyes widen in shock.

"Sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," Dan interrupts quickly, rubbing the area where he was touched and wincing a little. His stomach is tingling a little, even from that small touch, and he's not sure whether it's more from this stupid little crush that he's got on Phil, or the anxiety that he can feel bubbling through his body. This was a bad idea, letting Phil come over here, letting Phil touch him even in the slightest.

He continues to step back, his knees hitting the edge of the bed. That's when he stops, and he doesn't say a word, just watches Phil as he reaches to pick up a photo of Dan's that's sat on top of the nearest shelf.

It's him and Carrie, sat in a park on a swing, both much younger than they are now. Carrie's smile is wide and Dan's is equally so, almost to the point of looking goofy. It was taken by Dan's mum, and he can remember the moment as clear as crystal. And it's not one that he wants to share with Phil, not when he could so easily tell everyone about it, tell everyone about the freak kid Dan Howell's best friend.

"Phil can you... Can you, erm, put that down?" Dan asks hesitantly, and Phil looks up at him surprised.

"Of course. Sorry, Dan. Is she the friend you were texting the other day?" He asks curiously, putting the photo down and reaching instead for a small figure that Dan has resting next to it. It's a whale with a silly fringe, something Carrie bought him a year or so ago because it reminded her of him.

He almost asks for Phil to put that down too, but he doesn't. Asking once was bad enough, asking twice...

"Yeah. Her name is Carrie," he whispers quietly, and Phil nods as if he's actually interested. Dan's not sure why he would be.

"She's pretty," Phil replies thoughtfully, putting the whale back down and stepping away from Dan's things, walking back to the piano. He picks up his sheet music and folds it, tucking away back into his pocket and looking up at Dan.

The brunette is still stood looking like a puppy that's been kicked or something, and Phil raises an eyebrow, confused.

"Dan, why do you act so compliant all the time?" Phil asks quietly. Dan shrugs immediately, trying to ignore the trembling of his hands as he looks away from Phil and at the floor, stomach twisting into knots. How can Phil ask him that? Phil knows, he must know, exactly why he behaves as he does. "I mean, I get it around everyone else, I get that you're scared. By why do you do it with me?"

He's got to be messing with him, Dan thinks. He shrugs again helplessly, and his eyes flicker towards the door. If he could, he would get Phil out right now, because he can see feel heat radiating from the spot on his arm where Phil accidentally touched him, and honestly he thinks he's going to be sick.

Phil notices Dan's wandering eyes, and his smile falls. "I'll go," he mumbles, and Dan just nods, not saying a word.

He probably should so Phil out, should tell him that he's sorry that he's not a very good piano teacher, but he doesn't do any of those things. He just lets Phil leave, wincing a little at the click of his door shutting, and then is up and in his en suite, turning the shower on.

He steps out of his clothes and into the warm water, almost sighing at the feel of it splashing against his back. Legs trembling, he just sits down, thinking that falling over would probably be the worst thing he could do right now.

Pressing his fingers to the spot where Phil touched him, he just stares at it, as if there were some kind of horrific wound where the touch is still resounding through him. It's stupid, he knows it is. But he can't stand most people touching him, let alone a pure, and let alone Phil.

His head falls back against the wall, and the first tear falls down his cheek without him even noticing. He sniffs quietly and wipes it away, shaking his head at himself. Only he could be this stupid, only he could be this pathetic.

-

Monday comes too soon. Monday means seeing Phil, but worse than that, Monday means career forms, and honestly, Dan's been trying to forget about them. The one form that will determine his whole life, and most of the options will already have been blacked out. Literally.

Most careers he's not considered good enough to be in. Almost everything is on the list, and if there isn't what you're looking for, you're allowed to write down your own idea. It's not a guarantee, but it gives you a hell of a good chance of getting a job in whatever you want.

For pures, he guesses, it's easier. Even if they have far more choice, they also have something that they've been destined to do their whole life, something that they were actually programmed for. Dan has choices, though they are limited ones, but there's no preset path for him, no destiny chosen for him by his parents. Besides, the only thing he's actually good at is blacked out, he realises with a fall of his stomach when the paper is handed to him a couple of minutes after it's handed to everyone else. He'd expected that, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to see it.

His eyes flicker over the rest of his options, and he shakes his head at all of them. There's nothing on the list that he can see himself doing in a thousand years, nothing that he knows won't drive him to the brink of madness.

With a shake of the head, he folds the paper away and he tucks it into the inside pocket of his blazer. He guesses he could ask his mum what she thinks, although he reckons that seeing the options will probably only serve to make her upset. None of them are particularly glamorous or well-paid, and no matter what grudges Dan has against his mother, he knows that she wants nothing but the best for him. And really, none of the options left on this form are anywhere _near_ the best for him.

Everyone else is scribbling away at the form, Dan realises when he lifts his head up, except for Phil. The corners of Dan's lips creep up into a smile as he pushes all memories of the weekend out of his head and just watches Phil from the side. The black haired boy's face is all scrunched up in concentration as his eyes scan over his paper, and Dan realises that he has no idea what Phil was programmed for. He guesses it should be an easy choice for Phil, a choice as easy as it is for everyone else around them, and that he's just struggling to find the right boxes to tick.

The form isn't due in for a couple of weeks, but for most people it's easy. Within seconds, hands are flying up, and the teacher is taking the forms in one by one. The man raises his eyebrows at each student, just double checking that they're sure they're finished, but it's not exactly necessary. Apart from the few people in here that might have had parents rich enough to programme them for a few traits so they have a little choice, and Dan himself, it's not exactly a hard form to fill out.

Phil still hasn't finished, though, when ninety percent of the class has. Dan looks at him in confusion as Phil folds the paper away, tucking it in his blazer pocket much in the manner Dan did. That's strange, he knows it is, and Dan makes a note to ask him if he ever gets the chance. Which he probably won't, considering. It's likely that Phil hates him as much as everyone else does at this point.

"Fuck," he whispers under his breath when something hits the back of his head. His teacher raises an eyebrow at him, but Dan isn't looking. Instead, he's turning around to see a piece of paper that must have bounced off the back of his head and landed on the floor behind his chair.

He looks up. There are plenty of people behind him that would have thrown it, but he doesn't realise who it was until another piece of paper is thrown at him, landing right in his face this time.

With a low growl, Dan turns back around and clenches his fists. Getting angry is _not_ going to help him. Besides, he's taken far worse. He can deal with a little paper.

Another piece hits the back of his head, and he tries to shake it off. The bell is going to go any second for the first lesson, and he doesn't think his next lesson is with the blond kid that's decided he has an issue with Dan today, so he should be fine. As long as he gets out quickly and keeps his head down, that is.

The bell rings out, and Dan quickly slings his bag over his shoulder. He makes the mistake of stealing a glance behind him at the boy that threw the paper at him, and he realises in seconds that he shouldn't have done it.

He doesn't even know how it happens, but one second he's stood there, and the next there's a fist in his face, and there's laughter breaking down across the classroom. His hand reaches up to his lip, and he pulls it back to see blood, and he shakes his head. There's no point even reacting anymore, so he just closes his eyes and turns around, his feet taking him where he needs to go.

He's so stupid, and weak, and _pathetic_. Why did he even turn around? What was that going to accomplish? Now all he's done is gotten a split lip and probably a bruise to go with it, that if his parents sees is going to result in another futile meeting with the headmaster that never comes to anything. The old man says the same every time, that he can't stop the boys from doing what they like if it's not against the law or the school code, and beating up an impure is definitely not against the school rules. It's not against any rule, at law. In fact, it's positively encouraged by many people.

He needs to get out. That's what he needs. He doesn't even realise that he does until he starts to walk in the direction of the exit, starts to head towards the one spot on school grounds that he knows he won't be spotted on. He can feel tears pricking the back of his eyes, and he hopes to god that no one decides to leave the classroom right now. If they do, he'll be the laughing stock of the school. Not that he isn't already.

Phil turns the corner, his eyes searching for Dan. He just about catches him running out of the building, and he wonders where the hell he could be going. Instead of calling after him, since he knows that'd probably spook the brunette even more, he just keeps walking, keeps trailing him. He makes sure to be a good distance behind, just in case Dan happens to turn around.

It's quiet outside, almost deafeningly so, and Phil has to hold his breath to make sure that Dan doesn't hear him at several points. He just follows him along, his heart thudding loudly in his ears. He's not sure why those boys did it, not sure what provoked them, but then he's seen a lot of violence against Dan through the years that was uncalled for. And he knows that he's been part of the group dishing it out more than once.

The thought makes him shudder.

He keeps walking, watching Dan as he ducks behind the school building towards where the bins are kept. Phil's heart falls thinking that that might be the place where Dan goes to find refuge, where he feels safe from the outside world.

Dan throws himself against the wall, his back resting against it. He starts to slide to the floor, and he lets his head fall into his knees. At least he can breathe out here; at least he knows that no one is going to find him. Who in their right mind would come out here?

"Dan?" A meek voice whispers, and he freezes. He daren't look up, even if he knows who the voice belongs to, because Phil could just be here to finish the job off.

"Phil," he replies, voice muffled by his knees. He hears shuffling as someone sits down next to him, and he sighs quietly.

"Look at me," Phil asks quietly, and Dan obliges with a shake of the head, looking up at Phil sheepishly. For a moment he could have sworn that he'd seen tears in Phil's eyes, but he doesn't think that could possibly be true, so he pushes the thought away.

"Your lip," Phil whispers hoarsely, and Dan shrugs.

"It's not that bad. I've seen worse. Shouldn't you be in class, though? It's not worth you getting in trouble on my behalf," Dan mumbles bitterly. Truthfully, having Phil by his side does slightly relax him, because at least he's not alone and totally vulnerable if people come looking for him, but at the same time, he knows that Phil's going to take all kinds of shit for this.

"It's more important than getting in trouble for skipping maths to me that you're okay," Phil says with a shrug.

"I'm not important," Dan grumbles before he even thinks about it, and he can feel Phil's gaze turn to him.

"Yes, you are. Everyone's important,"

"So no one is?" Dan chokes, feeling the hot tears running down his face, "Let's face it. If everyone's important, than _no one_ is. So some people have to be unimportant, right? And I'm just part of the group that literally doesn't mean anything,"

"You know what Dan? You mean something to me," Phil whispers, almost inaudibly, before pushing himself up and quickly walking away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this chapter is longer than usual even though i was trying to write it quickly jfc


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a little late - i couldn't update on saturday but there will not only be this update but also another one at normal time this week so we don't fall behind. enjoy! c:

Phil's really not sure about this.

He never is, actually, thinking about it. There are very few things he's done in his life that he thinks were good decisions, which has hampered his belief in his own decision making somewhat.

Yet he knows that he has to do this, or he'll never be able to live with himself for at least not trying. No matter how many times Dan keeps trying to push him away, Phil's seen the way the brunette looks at him when he thinks that Phil's not watching him, and besides, Phil's own feelings are enough for him to keep pursuing it.

Not that he's sure _what_ he feels, exactly. But it must be something, considering the fact that he's walking a mile or so in absolutely pouring ran just for a chance at seeing Dan.

This was a really bad idea. He didn't even _think_ to bring an umbrella, and he does this kind of thing on an almost weekly basis. Basic thoughts like that don't even cross his mind. He knew it was going to be raining today, but the last thing on his mind was a damn umbrella. His head was all too full of pictures of Dan and his wonderful smile to even contemplate keeping dry if there actually was a storm.

Still, he's turning the corner now, so it's not far to Dan's house. At least then he'll be able to dry off - unless, of course, Dan tells him to go away, which Phil hasn't prepared himself for yet, even if he knows it's a possibility - and maybe even get somewhere in figuring out what it is about Dan that he's so infatuated with.

It's stupid, but he can't figure it out. He's not prejudiced - his parents never have been, so he never has either - so it's not the fact that Dan's an impure that puts him off a little, but there's something odd about the boy altogether. The way he always flinches away at Phil's touches, the fact that he'll never ask anything, the fact that he'll always comply to anything anyone asks him to do. Phil can't imagine himself doing that in a million years, especially considering some of the things that he knows his own friends have asked to do to Dan.

Shaking his head, he turns into the Howells' drive and starts to walk up the paved path to the door. Dan's house is bigger than his, which was certainly not what he'd been expecting that first time he came to see him, but then Phil usually forgets that Dan is a Howell. Rich higher-ups in government who staged a protest in the form of having a child that hadn't been genetically engineered. Phil wonders how they can justify that to their son now.

He's grateful to be out from the storm and stood in the small shelter of the doorframe, and he quickly raises a hand to knock on the door. He wraps his arms around himself after he's knocked once, and starts to hop from foot to foot to try and keep warm as he waits.

The door clicks as it opens, and Phil smiles, ready to great Dan, but instead he finds himself staring at a slightly younger version of the boy he really, really likes. It takes him a moment to register the differences - this boy's hair is a little lighter, his lips a little longer, and his face a little broader - and he figures that this is probably Dan's brother - Alex?

"What do you want?" The boy asks in a low voice, and Phil shivers. This kid is definitely at least a couple of years younger than him, but he can't help but feel intimidated by that tone of voice.

"I'm here to see Dan," Phil chips as brightly as he can, smile falling a little but still holding up.

A wave of shock passes over the boy's face before he shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders, "No. You're not allowed to see him, you shouldn't even be here,"

Phil raises an eyebrow. "And why not?"

"You're a pure, right? You shouldn't have anything to do with him. And even if you were an impure, you shouldn't be here anyway. We've got enough contamination as it is," Phil scrunches his nose up in disgust at the words, and he watches the boy lean against the door frame casually, as if his words were the most natural thing in the world.

Unfortunately, Phil knows that they probably _are_ the most natural words in the world. It shouldn't even surprise him that Dan's brother thinks like that, but he's come all this way to see Dan and it's still raining, and Phil's nothing but not stubborn.

"I'm here to get help with my music, my teacher's making me see Dan because he's near the top of the class or something," _the top_ , Phil corrects himself, but thinks that might be going too far to say it out loud.

"Yeah, right," Alex grumbles, but he rolls his eyes and looks backwards at the hallway.

"Dan! Someone's here to see you,"

It takes seconds for Dan to get here, and Phil smiles up at him. Dan doesn't return it, he just nods and gestures for Phil to follow him. Gladly, the black haired boy does so, walking down somewhat familiar hallways and up somewhat familiar staircases on the way. He thinks he could get used to this route, if Dan wanted him to.

"So, piano, right? Did you bring your music? I don't want to keep you here any longer than you need to be," Dan mumbles all at once, so fast that Phil barely registers a single word. He frowns, shaking his head.

"I didn't come for the piano, Dan. I came for you. I wondered if you wanted to watch a movie, maybe, or something? You've got plenty, right?" Phil wonders if he's overstepping his welcome, but Dan doesn't seem to be too bothered by it.

"I thought you needed help with the piano? Isn't that why our teacher sent you here in the first place?" He asks, and Phil can't help but sense the trace of bitterness in the remark.

"Dan, what-"

"I know people think I'm stupid, and I get why they think that. I never say anything, I'm always really quiet, and I don't really try in most classes. But I'm not. And I'm certainly not deaf,"

"Were you listening to what I said to your brother? Dan, honestly, I was just trying to get into the house to see you, I didn't mean it,"

Phil watches Dan chew the inside of his cheek, the room falling into an uncomfortable silence. Phil isn't one to deal with uncomfortable silences - he avoids them at every cost by trying to fill them with stupid jokes and his own laughter - and he just stares at Dan somewhat forlornly as he waits for him to say something.

Dan sighs. He should have known. Phil would never ask of his own accord, it doesn't surprise him that this was suggested by his teacher. It was just nice, for once, to have somebody that actually took interest in him for _him_. Carrie never would have done if he wasn't an impure who was when they met living on the same street, and he can't think of a single other person in his life that's actually listened long enough to hold a full conversation with Dan, let alone qualify as taking an interest in him.

Still, Phil probably would have had to say something like that to his brother to get him to let him in. Would Phil lie to see Dan? Probably not, Dan reasons. Phil seems like an honest enough person; why would he lie for someone like Dan?

"So... you're not here for piano?" Dan mumbles tentatively, taking an instinctive away from Phil and backing himself against the wall.

Phil smiles weakly, shaking his head. "Do you really think I would have walked all this way in the absolutely _pouring_ rain just to play some piano? I hate the piano," he chuckles at the end, shaking his head at the ludicrous of him actually doing something like that.

He's still drenched through, and he's grateful when Dan shrugs and goes to his en suite bathroom to get a towel. Dan brings it back out and hands it to Phil without a word, before going to his shelves of DVDs and starting to look through them.

Slowly running the towel through his hair, Phil takes a step forwards and looks over Dan's shoulder, glancing at the rather impressive collection of movies and TV shows and anime. Dan's fingers are lightly tracing over the spines of the cases, trying to decide what to watch, and without even thinking Phil reaches forward and puts his hand over Dan's to guide to the nearest movie that Phil's seen before.

Dan flinches away from the touch, snatching his hand back. He cradles it in the other, turning round so his back is against the DVDs and looking at Phil with horror.

Phil's heart falls as he sees Dan's movements. "What did I do?" He whispers, looking down at his own hands to see if he can possibly see a cause for Dan's weird reaction. Dan lets out a quiet whimper and tries to shake off the squirming of his stomach, the tingling from the touch that's still left in his hand.

It wasn't unpleasant. Not at all. In fact, he feels a little light-headed from the initial shock that it gave him, the sparks running through him. But he's not used to anyone (apart from Carrie) touching him at all, and he's not sure why they'd want to. He's unclean, dirty. He would absolutely hate to get his taint on Phil.

"Nothing. I'm sorry. Pick a DVD you like, and we can watch it if that's what you want to do,"

Unconvinced, Phil raises an eyebrow, but Dan's already skittering off to do something else, so Phil's left with no choice but to chose a movie.

He picks something easy to watch and carefully slides the case out from where it's been placed neatly. In the back of his mind, he notes how wonderfully organised all of Dan's DVDs are with a smile. It's strange, to him, how someone can be so messy at yet so tidy all at once.

Dan comes back holding a pile of clothes in his hands, and he hands them out to Phil. "Your clothes are wet. We're probably about the same size, so they should fit. It's just jeans and a t-shirt and they're not very nice but it'd probably be better than-"

"Dan, hush. They're fine. Thanks for even thinking about that, I hadn't to be honest," Phil smiles at him, taking the clothes and running his fingers across the fabric. He can feel Dan's eyes on him the whole time, but he doesn't look up until Dan talks again.

"Why did you come back, Phil? It's not my place to ask. I get that. But I'm so much lower than you, you could do so much better when it comes to friends, why me? I'm annoying, I hate pretty much everything, I'm not even talkative or funny. And you have plenty of friends, so why keep coming here?"

Phil tilts his head to the side. He bites down gently on his bottom lip and sits down on the edge of the bed, eyes going back to the fabric.

"Honestly? I don't know. But I like you, so let's just go with that? I want to be friends - you don't have to be worried or scared around me. I'm not going to hurt you, and I'm not going to say anything to anyone. Why would I? I wouldn't have anything to gain. I'd just feel like shit. So I can assure you that I'm not going to do that. And if you don't want me to touch you, then I won't. Just say something if I make you uncomfortable, that way I'll know for next time, okay?" Phil finishes with a weak smile, glancing back up at Dan, who's playing with his hands uncomfortably.

"Okay," comes a hoarse reply, and Phil's smile immediately widens to a grin. _Okay_. It's a start, right?

"I picked out this. Is it okay? I don't really know what your favourites are," Phil hands the DVD to Dan, who looks down at the cover and smiles.


	8. Chapter 8

The library is probably the only place of refuge that Dan has.

He can hide away in here. For the whole lunch break, he can just be on his own, surrounded by books and all kinds of worlds to run away into. Not that he actually reads that much, he just likes having the option. The librarian never talks to him, and he never talks to her, and apart from her there's never anyone else in here, apart from the occasional teacher looking to check something out for a class.

The one hour or so a day he can spend in here is the only time he really gets on his own without any risk of his brother screaming for him, or of someone walking in on him in the practise room. He cherishes it, lets the silence of the room fill him. He can just _be_ in this room, without anyone else to bother him. He can just be Dan Howell, and not 'that impure'.

He smiles a little as he writes out the next equation, putting the end of the pencil straight into his mouth the second he's finished writing. Chewing absently, he squints a little as he tries to figure out how to re-arrange it, looking carefully at the numbers and letters on either side. Maths isn't his strong point, but he's not awful at it either. It just takes him a few moments sometimes to process what's going on in front of him.

With an assured nod when he realises what he's doing, he starts to write the answer, making sure to put down every step just in case. Once he's done, he looks over at the book and sees it's the last equation with a smile. He's done two out of the three pieces of homework he has to do today, and when he glances at the clock he's still got sixteen minutes before he has to go to registration.

Sighing, he leans back in his chair and stretches out his arms behind his head. He can just about see his career form underneath his things, and he knows he's got to fill it out soon. Well, not that he's _got_ to, he just knows that if he doesn't, he'll have little to no chance of ever making anything out of himself, and he'd rather be the poorest person in the most dead end job in the world than have to keep living with his parents.

In fact, he's pretty sure that if anything happens that means his career form doesn't work out for him, he'd rather live on the streets than have to keep living with his parents. Even without his shit head of a brother. He can't stand that house.

"What are you up to?" A voice interrupts his voices, and he jumps a little. He spins round to see Phil standing behind him, a sly grin on his face.

The librarian whispers an almost inaudible 'be quiet', pointed straight at Phil, and the black-haired boy just rolls his eyes and does a stupid imitation of the woman, contorting his face in ways Dan hadn't even realised were possible.

"Just homework," Dan chuckles, eyes on Phil as he moves to sit next to Dan.

Dan gathers his things, shoving them away from Phil so that he's got room to lean on the table, and Phil smiles at him appreciatively.

"Never took you for a library nerd," Phil remarks, looking up at the ceiling with something that Dan guesses is awe. Dan just shrugs, looking back down at his form that has ended up at the top of the pile.

"What's that?" Phil asks, leaning forward to grab the piece of paper that Dan's looking at. The brunette doesn't even try to stop his friend, knowing that it's pointless with Phil's odd determination that seems to surface at random moments.

Phil's eyes scan the paper, and he sees that Dan has printed his name neatly in capitals at the top, but that he hasn't filled in anything else. He knows that most of these careers aren't an option for Dan, but there's got to be something, right?

"What have you put down on yours?" Dan asks quietly, curious but not wanting to push Phil into answering anything. By now he knows that Phil doesn't mind his questions, but it's the force of habit that makes him still doubt himself whenever he does it.

"Accountancy. Not really a choice for me, really. I'm good at maths, that's what my parents wanted me to be good at, for whatever reason. It's boring as fuck, though. I'd much rather go into acting or something, but I'm not designed for that, so I guess there's no point even trying," Phil picks up the pencil that Dan had been using to do his work, grimacing a little when he sees it's been chewed on, but starts to tap it against the table nonetheless.

"Well, at least you've got it sorted out, right? Plus accountancy is a good job. I'm kind of stuck. I'm too lazy to do any kind of hard labour, and I'm not fit enough, anyway. I'm kind of leaning towards..." he trails off. This probably isn't the best kind of conversation to have with a pure. It's not Phil's fault, but Dan knows the black haired boy won't understand in the slightest. There's never been any doubt about what Phil will do for a living. He's been programmed for it. But Dan has a choice - and it's not enough choice, but at the same time it's far too much.

"Leaning towards what, Dan?" Phil asks, scrunching his face up with curiosity and putting the form down, focussing his eyes on Dan.

"Doesn't matter," Dan tries to shrug it off, but Phil leans towards him and raises an eyebrow. With a quiet sigh, Dan takes the form from in front of Phil and points towards the right box, and Phil feels his blood run cold.

"You can't do that," he whispers hoarsely, quiet enough so that the critical gaze of the librarian that had been on the pair of them ever since Phil walked in moves away.

"I might have to. There's nothing else I can do. Apparently I'm kind of good looking, for an impure, anyway, and there's a market out there for people like me, Phil," Dan replies, almost without emotion, his voice wobbling just slightly.

"Dan, you'd get eaten alive, you can't do that," Phil pulls the form from out under Dan's fingers, bringing it closer to himself so that Dan can't tick the box he wants to.

"Do you think I want to do it? Because I don't. Quite frankly, I don't want to do anything," Dan almost _growls_ , forgetting about watching his place. The librarian tries to hush him, but he carries on regardless, "Quite frankly, I want to curl up at home and just _stop_ , but I'm not going to, so I have to do something, and this is as good as anything,"

"But what if you get hurt?" Phil's voice is still quiet, his eyes fixed on the paper at his fingertips. He could rip it up, throw it away, stop Dan from doing this. But there's a voice in the back of his head telling him that to a certain extent Dan is right, he doesn't really have much of a choice. At the end of the day, there are limited options for him. Ripping up this form would be like ripping up all of Dan's possibilities of a future.

"Why do you care? You barely know me," Dan murmurs, shaking his head a little in disbelief. He's pushing it by asking, but he always is with Phil. What's the point in trying to stick to the boundaries that he's always been taught when he's around Phil?

"Because you don't let me know you," Phil says incredulously, sitting back in his chair. His mouth falls open a little in disbelief, and his eyes fall on the ceiling again.

"Because I'm dangerous,"

"But you're not, Dan. Why don't you see it? You're just like everyone else. I want to be your friend, but I can't, because you're not letting me. And I'm trying to help you right now, but you're ignoring me!" Phil keeps his voice down at a frantic whisper, but it's enough to tip the librarian over the edge.

Before the pair of them know it, they're being ushered out, Dan hurriedly packing away his things into his bag. It's stupid, Phil thinks, considering the fact that there aren't even any people in the library, but at least it gives him an excuse to stop having that conversation, at least temporarily.

For a few moments, they stand in silence outside of the door, Dan clutching his back to his chest and looking anywhere that isn't Phil.

"Okay, Phil," he pipes up, his words much quieter than anything that he said in the library. The form is in his pocket, and it feels like it's burning his skin through the fabric of his jeans. "I'll do what you say,"

"No, Dan, that isn't what I mean-" Phil begins, but Dan just shrugs and starts to walk away. Phil goes to reach out for him, goes to grab his arm, but he remembers the way that Dan flinches every time he even comes close to him, and he stops, hand grabbing the air instead.

"Don't walk away from me," Phil whispers, and Dan stops, turning around. He waits for Phil to say something else, and when he doesn't he starts to shift his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably, looking down at the floor.

"What do you want?"

"I came into the library to ask you to come to my house tonight. You know, we haven't done that yet, and I think it'd be good for getting to know each other better. And my Mum and Dad want to meet you, they keep telling me that they're wondering if I made you up, because I always talk about you and they've never actually seen you,"

Dan's heart does a weird flip at the idea of Phil talking at his usual quick pace to his parents about Dan - _Dan_ of all people. He smiles a little despite himself, and looks up at Phil.

"I'll come. If that's what you want."

"Please," Phil smiles back, and he thinks for a couple of seconds before he adds, "We can talk about this properly then, okay? When you're not all stressed out from work and stuff,"

Dan wants to say that right now he's the opposite of stressed about work, because he's managed to get most of it done this lunch, but he doesn't contradict Phil.

He nods, turning around to leave again, but not starting to walk until he hears Phil say goodbye and then footsteps behind him. Closing his eyes, he lets out the breath that he'd been subconsciously holding, and shakes his head.

Phil's house? What could that be like? He imagines it to be a little like Phil himself - bright and full of life. The opposite of Dan's house, really. But he can't even begin to imagine what his parents must be like. For Phil to be able to talk openly about Dan to them, they must be impure supporters, and they're pretty rare. He wouldn't even put his parents in that category any more - they've learnt from their mistakes.

They're probably the kind of people that always smile too much, that are irritatingly always too happy. Those are the kind of people he can't stand. More often than not, they claim to be invested in working for rights that they already have themselves, and they don't get any benefit from it other than getting their name on TV for supporting a controversial movement.

He shakes his head. Trying to think negative things about people that he hasn't even met isn't going to change anything. Either way, he's agreed to go to Phil's house when he really doesn't want to, all because he was scared to say no.

He laughs bitterly at himself. He's so stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the actual phan begins next week (kind of) are u excited bc i am so excited u dont


	9. Chapter 9

"You agreed to _what_?" Carrie asks incredulously over the phone, her voice crackling a little from being so close to the microphone. Dan flinches, sitting down on a bench just outside the front school gate. He didn't want to go to his last class, so he's been out on the playing fields all afternoon, working up the courage to actually talk to someone.

"He basically told me to, I didn't have a choice, Carrie," Dan sighs sadly, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. He's not even sure if he thinks that this is a good idea anymore. At first, he was almost convinced against it, but then he started thinking about how at least being to Phil's house would put him in Phil's home turf, and Phil would probably show him more definitively what he's interested in Dan for.

"You haven't been to someone else's house in years, Dan. I know you like him, and I'm all for you making new friends, but I'm worried that if you get too close to him, then-"

"He's a pure, but he's not evil. That's really saying something, let's be honest, Carrie. He seems to like me. I don't know, I can't decide whether he's just playing with me or something. This could all be part of a bet or something, for all I know. He could be coaxing me round to his house so he and his mates can..." Dan trails off, closing his eyes. He can't imagine Phil doing that, but then he reminds himself that he doesn't really know Phil. The black-haired boy said it himself; they don't know each other, because Dan won't let them know each other.

"Do you want me to be on hand, just in case?" Carrie asks, her tone slightly softer than it was before, and Dan hums in agreement.

The bell rings, and Dan's head snaps up. Any second, everyone's going to come pouring out, and his solitude will be interrupted. And one of those people, he knows, is going to be Phil, looking for Dan himself. He was meant to share a class with Phil this afternoon, but it's not the first time Dan's skipped, and after their lunch break, Dan's sure that Phil will make the logical conclusion, and not just think that Dan's bailed on him and gone home. Not that Dan hadn't considered that particular course of action.

"He's going to be out soon," he almost whispers, and he hears Carrie sigh on the other end.

"Okay. Stay safe. Ring me if you need me, okay?"

"Ok-" Dan doesn't even have a chance to finish his word before the line cuts out. He takes the phone away from his ear and he looks at it, realising that his fingers are trembling a little. She's mad with him, and he's not entirely sure why.

Trying to reassure himself that she's probably just had a bad day at school, Dan puts the phone into his inside blazer pocket and stands up, stretching his arms over his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of the first few students coming out, and he slings his bag over his shoulder, clutching it tightly.

It's not hard to pick Phil out of the mob, considering how tall the black-haired boy is (and how well Dan has his features memorised in every inch of his brain), and he forces a weak smile when he sees him approaching.

"Dan!" Phil calls, and Dan feels eyes turn to him. Wishing silently that Phil hadn't done that, he tries to ignore the stares and keeps the smile on his lips as he waits patiently for Phil to get to him.

"Hey," Dan says flatly, and Phil's face falls a little. Phil reaches out a hand, and for a moment Dan thinks that he's trying to take hold of his own hand, but then Phil grips the handle of his bag. Without even hesitating, Dan takes it off and passes it over to Phil, watching as the latter throws it over the shoulder that isn't carrying his own, galaxy covered satchel.

"You weren't in class this afternoon, I was worried you'd gone home," Phil says quietly as they start to walk, Phil just slightly in front of Dan.

Dan shrugs. He doesn't really have a good excuse, and he figures that Phil will drop it if he doesn't say anything.

For a few minutes, they walk in silence, the screaming of the school children fading fast as they get away from the gate. Dan's grateful for the distance, and he lets his shoulders slump a little, some of the tension leaving his body. It's like this every time; he always ends up really tense after having to keep silent and obey orders at school all day. Even though it's not a perfect situation now, what with Phil next to him, he can still feel slightly more at ease, he knows.

"My house isn't far," Phil mumbles, feeling the need to fill the empty silence around them, but also now wanting to say anything that oversteps Dan's boundaries. He doesn't know how to initiate conversation about things that they might have in common, or what Dan wants to do tonight. He's almost positive that Dan wouldn't take kindly to either one of those conversation topics, and he'd end up closing himself off again, or just going into a submissive mode like he had done either, and that would completely defeat the object of the evening.

Biting his lip, Phil looks at Dan up and down. The brunette is wearing his blazer sleeves tugged up just to his elbows, and his fringe is pushed back into a kind of messy quiff from where Dan runs his fingers through it so much, and even though Phil knows that he should look scruffy and stupid, he can't help but admit to himself that it looks pretty much the opposite. He notices that Dan's school trousers are low slung, his belt doing absolutely nothing to hold them up, and smiles to himself when he sees that even Dan's underwear is black.

He tears away his gaze before Dan notices, a blush rising to his cheeks, and he opens his mouth to compliment the other boy on how he looks. He stops himself before he says anything, though, because he expects that Dan would reject his words as just politeness, and he'd rather not say it at all than be misinterpreted.

"Apart from your brother, do you have any other family, Dan?" Phil asks curiously, deciding that it's probably a topic that can't be too sensitive.

"Mum. Dad. No one, apart from that. I had a Gran, but she died a couple of years ago, and then there was my dog. He died about six months ago. Carrie's really the closest thing I have to family," Dan replies, chewing the inside of his cheek.

"I have an older brother, but he doesn't live with us anymore, he's at uni," Phil says, even though Dan didn't technically ask him. He knows that if he's going to keep any kind of conversation going, he'll have to work harder than usual.

"Cool," Dan replies, a hint of disinterest in his voice.

Phil shakes his head and sighs at Dan's lack of enthusiasm. He's managed to get Dan talking before, but he's not getting anywhere this time.

"Hey, how about a game?" he suggests, stopping in his tracks. Dan stops too, one or two steps ahead of Phil, and turns back, raising an eyebrow.

"Like what?"

"Hm," Phil muses, leaning his weight onto his toes, and then onto the balls of his feet, "You ask me a question, and I'll answer it truthfully, and then I get to ask you a question, which you also have to answer truthfully,"

"Doesn't really sound like a game, Phil," Dan replies with an amused smirk, knowing full well that Phil's just trying to get him to talk. The black haired boy shrugs off Dan's remark easily, and starts to walk again, faster this time.

"I'll go first then, if you don't think my game is worth playing. Okay, what's your favourite colour?"

Dan raises an eyebrow at Phil, asking silently if they're really going to do this. Phil returns his gaze, a look of determination on his face, and Dan lets out a small laugh.

"Black. What's yours?"

"Da-an. That's not how it works, you have to ask a different question," Phil giggles, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth.

Rolling his eyes, Dan shakes his head. "You never stated that in the official rules," he teases, and Phil pouts.

"Fine. My favourite is blue," Phil answers, smiling softly.

"Like the ocean?"

"Like the sky," Phil corrects.

Humming to himself quietly as he tries to think of the next question, Phil can feel Dan's eyes on him. They seem to be following the same trail that Phil's eyes did on Dan earlier, and he tries to suppress the laugh that bubbles at the back of his throat.

"Okay. Do you have any scars?" Phil asks, trying to avoid the mundane questions that Phil could just find on Dan's social networking sights.

"Yup. Here," Dan lifts his arm and points to the underside of it, to a silvery patch of skin just below his wrist, "When I was younger, my brother..."

Dan trails off, and Phil tilts his head to one side inquisitively. He decides not to say anything, not wanting to press it. When Dan opens his mouth to continue a few seconds later, he almost jumps from surprise, "He and his mates were round at my house and they knocked me down to the ground, but my arm went flying and I smashed a vase. One of the pieces cut my arm. I got in trouble for breaking the china when mum got home, she didn't even care why it had been broken,"

Dan shrugs as he finishes, pulling down his sleeves self-consciously. Just as Phil opens his mouth to try and say something comforting, he glances up at the houses to their left and lets out a small noise of surprise.

"Thank god I looked up at the right time, or we would have missed it," he laughs, stopping and turning around.

Dan looks up at Phil's house, mouth slightly open. It's smaller than his own, much to his surprise, but it's much nicer kept, Dan realises. The grass is cut uniformly, and the flowers are arranged neatly, almost obsessively so. This is the front garden of someone with _far_ too much time on their hands, Dan thinks, as he follows Phil up the path leading to the front door.

Phil doesn't hesitate to knock on the door in a rhythm that Dan guesses lets his parents know who it is, and Dan sees the closed curtains of the room at the front of the house shift a little out of the corner of his eye. Even from out here, he can smell something cooking, and his stomach rumbles a little.

What a great day to skip lunch, he realises, as the door opens and the first thing that's on his mind is the delicious smell that's coming from inside. He doesn't even have time to register the person standing there before he's engulfed in a hug, large arms embracing him.

He yelps at the contact, shivers running down his spine, and all the hunger is replaced with nausea as he realises that he's not going to get this person off him. In the distance, he can hear Phil's protests, but he can barely see straight until the arms are away, and he's free.

"Fuck," he mumbles under his breath, barely realising who he's just sworn in front of.

"Mum, I told you he doesn't like- Oh fucking hell, come on Dan," Phil almost growls, and Dan doesn't realise he's being tugged away until he almost trips over the step into the house.

Phil has his school jumper firmly in his grip, and he practically drags Dan through the house, up the stairs and through a door, which is slammed shut behind them.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, I told her not to-" Phil rambles, looking Dan up and down. The younger boy is shaking, and Phil gestures to the bed, ushering Dan to sit down.

Phil bites his lip, staring at Dan's face. All the blood has rushed out of it, and a string of curses about his mother starts to run through his head.

He'd told her not to. He'd warned her, since he knew he'd have to, considering how clingy she used to be to all his childhood friends. She's only trying to be polite, he knows that, and it's been a long time since Phil's had someone over, so she's probably just excited at the prospect of her son actually having proper friends.

But that doesn't matter, not when Dan is visibly trembling in front of him, pale as a sheet. Phil's never seen him react this badly to a touch before, but then Phil's only brushed against him on those few occasions that they've touched, and at least Dan kind of knows Phil.

"I'm so sorry, Dan," he mumbles, and Dan looks up at him.

"Not your fault. It's my fault for being so damn stupid-"

"No, Dan, it's not. I should have been more explicit in telling her no, or I should at least have warned you. At the end of the day, this is something you can't help, and I know it isn't. I'm not stupid, I've noticed that you don't like touch, and considering what I've seen other people do to you..." Phil trails off, his throat constricting.

He keeps trying not to think about it, but every time the image of Dan in the bathroom comes back into his head he just wants to throw up, because he did _nothing_. It was his fault in the first place that Dan was in trouble with them, and Phil did nothing to get him out of that trouble. He didn't even help Dan when they were gone, and he doesn't think he could feel any more guilty for that than he already does.

"It's okay. Please, don't worry about it. Don't worry about me," Dan laughs bitterly, snaking his arms around his waist and holding himself tightly.

"Why not? You're my friend, I'm allowed to worry about you," Phil mumbles, wringing his hands together anxiously.

The corners of Dan's lips prick up into a smile, and he keeps his eyes fixed on Phil.

"Thanks," Dan says simply, not elaborating. He takes a deep breath, trying to gain some control, and he knows that he's shaking less already.

He doubts the intentions of the woman that he assumes to be Phil's mother were bad, and he knows that he's probably just offended the mother of the only new friend he's had for years. He doesn't want to, as stupid as it sounds, mess it up, but it's probably already far too late for that.

"Will your mum hate me after that?

"No. If she does, I'll just tell her you have a thing about dirt, or something. She'd believe it easily. I thought I'd managed to explain it to her anyway... Besides, she was the one who suggested I have you round here. She wants to meet you," Phil unfolds his fingers, having to suppress the urge to reach out and hold a shaking Dan's hand. He wants to hold him until he stops shaking, wants to keep him safe, but touch was what caused the problem in the first place, and Phil doesn't want to make that worse if he doesn't have to.

Instead, he takes off his blazer and lies it down on the bed, fiddling with the sleeves for a moment to get them into place. Dan's eyes follow him, trained on Phil rather than the bright room around them, and Phil's stomach flips.

"I wanted to ask you something, but you probably won't want to now, not after that," Phil begins tentatively.

He looks at Dan, who's smiling just slightly, before continuing.

"Look, I wanted to know if you wanted to stay over tonight. I have a camp bed, so..." Phil trails off when he sees Dan's face fall a little.

The brunette reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, and he closes his eyes, shrugging.

"Sure. If that's what you want,"

"No, Dan. I want to know what you want," Phil mumbles, trying to ignore the frustration straining his words.

"I want what you want," Dan tries to laugh it off, holding his hands up to show that he doesn't really mind.

Phil sighs. Dan doesn't know the half of what Phil wants, and Phil's almost positive that Dan doesn't actually return any feelings that he may or may not have. Phil wants to cuddle, and he wants to hold hands, and he wants all of Dan. Stupid as it sounds, he just doesn't want Dan to leave, because he's become attached far too quickly but he doesn't even care over Dan. He wants Dan to be _his_ , and he wants himself to be _Dan's_.

And he can't have it, because he can't even touch the brunette without him flinching. He can't even get close to him without noticing the way that Dan sucks in a sharp breath, tensing up visibly. He can't have any of what he wants because Dan most likely doesn't feel the same way, and even if he did, Phil can't see Dan opening up to Phil in any way at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man i just want to get to chapter 12 already that's where the fun/pain really starts heck im so impatient


	10. Chapter 10

Phil's fingers are about an inch away from touching Dan's nose, and Dan stares at them intently. They're curled just a little, and he's obviously been cutting his fingernails as he's been practising on the piano more. In the dim light, Dan can see just how pale Phil's skin is as it almost glows a little in the darkness.

He sighs and looks up, beyond Phil's fingers. He sees the black haired boy sleeping soundly, mouth hanging open a little and face squashed by a pillow. He's half on his side and half on his front, feet wrapped around a pillow that's somehow migrated to the bottom of Phil's bed in the night. After an evening of giggling interrupted by the occasional silence when Phil said something that made Dan uncomfortable, Phil fell asleep pretty quickly, despite how much he claimed that he could never ever sleep.

Dan on the other hand is very much awake. He's not sure how long he's been staring, but it's probably been too long, he realises. If Phil were to wake up for some reason he'd probably get uncomfortable, and Dan would never be able to face him again. Quite honestly, just his slighty-less-than-platonic feelings for his friend are making Dan himself uncomfortable enough. He knew from the second that he noticed Phil for the first real time in that bathroom that he had a crush on him, but then he never thought that he would ever get this close to him, that they'd ever even have a proper conversation. Dan never signed up for this, but now he doesn't know how to get out.

He could leave, and he could stop talking to Phil. He still has Carrie, and he's been seeing her much less to make time for seeing Phil, which he feels guilty as hell about. She swears that she doesn't mind, but he knows that she must do. After all, they've been best friends for years, and suddenly some pretty pure with blue eyes swans in and her best friend is permanently at his side. If it were the other way round, Dan knows that he would be pissed too.

By this point, however, Dan doesn't know if he could bring himself to cut Phil out. No matter how uncooperative he is in making conversation with Phil, something is telling him to trust him, and he can't get rid of the feeling that pushing Phil away would be a huge mistake. If there's one thing Dan doesn't really have, it's regrets, and he doesn't think that he'd like to start now.

Besides, it's not like anything has actually happened. They're still just friends, and that's how Dan expects it to stay. No matter what Phil does, Phil is a pure, and pures just do not date impures. It wasn't even legal until about a year ago and it only became legal then because of pressure from America and Europe, who all have far more inclusive policies regarding genetic purity. Dan knows that Phil wouldn't be willing to risk his entire superior status as a pure just for someone as worthless and insignificant as Dan.

Carefully, making sure that he doesn't accidentally knock Phil's hand and wake him up, Dan slides out of bed, landing with a thud on the carpet. It was a short fall, but Dan winces nonetheless, a soft sound escaping his mouth.

He glances up at Phil and sees that his eyes are still firmly shut. Dan takes a deep breath, pushing himself up using his elbows and reaching for his stuff. He pulls out a school book and tears out a page, hastily scribbling a note onto it. Before he folds it, he reads it over once just to make sure that his spelling isn't too hideous, and then he places it on the pillow.

Quickly, he stuffs the rest of his things into his bag. There's not much because honestly, he wasn't expecting Phil at all to offer for him to sleep over, and then he stands up to start taking off his clothes. Slightly apprehensively, worried that Phil might wake up, he pulls down the pyjama bottoms that Phil had lent him, straight away putting his school trousers on. He doesn't bother with all the buttons on his school shirt, just doing up the few that are needed to keep the material held across his chest, and then he tugs on his blazer.

He finds his phone within it, and he pulls it out to read the time. It's just gone 2am, and he really doubts that anyone is going to be outside to see him leaving.

With one final look at Phil, whose open lips are pricked up slightly as if he would be smiling was he awake, he opens the door and closes it almost silently behind him.

\--

Phil wakes up with a groan, stretching his fingers. As his eyes start to focus, he sees the camp bed in front of him is empty, and he frowns.

With a yawn, he sits up and looks around the room. The first thing he notices is that Dan's bag isn't there anymore. He swings his legs round the side of the bed and chucks off the covers, looking around almost frantically.

"Dan?" He calls as loudly as he dared, scared of waking up his parents in the next room.

No response. He looks down at the camp bed again, and he just about catches sight of the note on top of the pillow.

Rubbing his eyes, he leans forwards to pick it up. His name is scrawled messily on the front of it, and it's folded into two uneven halves. His face falls as he starts to read it.

_Dear Phil,_

_I'm sorry but I had to go. It doesn't really matter why but it wasn't anything to do with you so don't worry or anything. I'll see you at school, okay? I'm really sorry that I had to leave I feel really bad now so please don't be mad with me about it. Thank you for a really great evening!_

_Dan_

Phil blinks once and reads the words again to make sure that he read them all properly. Once he's checked it, he holds the crinkled paper to his chest and sits down, leaning back against the bed. His head falls into his knees.

Dan probably left because Phil made him uncomfortable. He was stupid, he knows, asking Dan to stay with him out of the blue like that and expecting him to be okay with it. Dan will do whatever Phil asks him to because he's just so damn _submissive_ , and Phil knows that that means he'll also do things that put him out of his comfort zone. This was probably one of those things.

He remembers the way Dan tensed up when they were by the library the second Phil actually said something as if it were a command. Phil was so angry that he was blind to the fact that Dan obviously did not want to talk to him, that he just wanted to run as far away from Phil. His stomach churns with guilt as he thinks about all the other times Dan has done something purely because Phil has made him, even if it wasn't Phil's intention to do so.

Phil wipes away a tear angrily. This is stupid. It's not his fault, it's the fault of the damn society that's made Dan feel like he has to do everything a pure tells him to. He's his own person as much as Phil is, and Phil genuinely can't fathom why anyone would try and make Dan feel otherwise.

\--

Dan is terrified.

Terrified of seeing Phil after ditching him, terrified in case people saw him near Phil's house, terrified in case people are talking about them simply because they were seen by the gates after school.

One good thing about being an impure is that you earn a sense of anonymity. No one really cares what your name is as they're shoving a cock down your throat or shoving your face down a toilet. As long as they know you're an impure, they don't care.

But being with Phil will strip that anonymity. Dan didn't even really think about it until he was about to leave the house for school, and now he's only a few moments away and he can practically hear the taunts that are going to be thrown at him all day.

He turns a final corner. The gates are in sight, but as he's early no one's around yet. Yet being very much the operative word.

What happens when they arrive, Dan doesn't know. What he does know is that he's sure Phil won't want to be seen with him again after this, so he guesses that his decision about whether to stick with Phil or not will be made for him, as all his decisions are. He wouldn't blame Phil at all for pretending that Dan doesn't exist after this, in fact Dan would positively encourage it.

He steps over the threshold of the school, keeping his head down. He makes his way across the playground towards the front door quickly, heading straight for his form room. He just wants this day to be over, for it to end. After a while, they'll get sick of tormenting him. Hopefully it won't take much more than a day, maybe two at the most. He has quite a forgettable face, and there are much more interesting things they could all be talking about, so he doesn't expect it to last all that long.

He reaches the registration room without incident, and he lets out a breath that had been caught in his throat. He looks around and sees that no one is in yet, apart from one black haired boy sat in the corner where Dan himself usually sits.

"Phil?" Dan asks somewhat incredulously, and Phil looks up at him with a smile.

"Hey! I missed you," Phil says quietly, beckoning for Dan to come over and sit with him. Dan hesitates, gripping the strap of his bag tightly, before walking over to join Phil.

"I'm sorry that I left,"

"It's okay. It was your decision, and you had the right to make it. Don't feel pressurised into doing anything for me, Dan. If you don't want to do anything, then say no, okay?" Dan nods a little, his focus not really on Phil's words, but more on the people he can see through the window. They're approaching the building, and he knows that they're all in his form. Shit.

"Phil, do you want to go and sit where you normally sit? I don't think you being with me is a good idea," Dan mumbles, trying not to sound like he's ordering Phil to do something.

"What? Why would I want to do that? I want to sit with you," Phil replies innocently, frowning a little. Dan opens his mouth to say something back, but is interrupted by the sound of a door opening behind them.

Dan flinches. Phil opens his mouth to ask why, but then he sees the paper thrown at the back of Dan's head. Confused, Phil stands up and walks around to pick the paper up, smoothing it out and ignoring the sound of sniggering from the group of people that had just walked into the room.

_Cross-breeder_.

Phil winces at the word, but he scrunches up the paper and tosses it into the recycling. He smiles up at Dan and sits back down, gesturing for Dan to join him. Dan simply shakes his head.

"No. I'm not letting you be subject to this, Phil. Not on my watch. You don't deserve it," Dan whispers quickly, head falling and eyes stinging with lingering tears.

"And you do? Look, it doesn't bother me, why would it? They're wrong, so," Phil says with a shrug.

He sees Dan's hands are in fists by his sides, and tentatively, Phil reaches out to uncurl one of them. Dan doesn't seem to look too uncomfortable, so Phil keeps going, watching Dan closely for any signs of a flinch.

When he doesn't see one, he slots his fingers in between Dan's and beams up at him.

"I care far more about you than those twats over there, Dan. You should know that by now. They don't understand how wonderful a person you are, because they can't look past your genetics. Which is stupid, because quite honestly the whole 'pure' versus 'impure' thing doesn't really make sense when you think about it, because at the end of the day your genes are far more natural than mine, but that's not important and I'm ranting so I'm going to stop," Phil cuts himself off with a laugh, his eyes shining with a natural shimmer that makes Dan's heart do a flip. "But seriously, Dan. Do not think that they are going to scare me away from you. I'm not going anywhere, not if you don't want me to,"

Dan doesn't unlink their fingers, and he sits down next to Phil, using his free hand to pull out the seat. When he's comfortable, he clears his throat and looks up at Phil, a wide smile on his face.

"I want you to stay,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally finished this with 2 minutes to spare holy shit i left it so late to write this i really was not feeling it omg


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! this is an early morning post, but there will be another chapter later tonight, this one is just short and building up the tension ;) we're also halfway excluding epilogue! thank you for reading c:

Dan throws his bag onto the floor. He flops onto the bed, burying his face into his pillows.

He hasn't been able to wipe the damn grin off his face all day, and even now he's smiling into his pillows. His stomach has been constantly turning and churning in the best kind of way, and his legs feel like jelly every single time his mind wanders to thoughts of Phil.

Still, there's a lingering doubt that maybe this is a bad idea. He's not been willing and ready to let anyone, not even Carrie, particularly close to him before, but with Phil, he can't help it. Something about him just makes him want to open up, to take refuge in his long arms and kind words. But Phil is still a pure, he's still different, and as much as Dan wants to forget that, it's hard when he's reminded of it in the words that are flung at him every five seconds.

At the same time, though, he thinks that Phil is worth the risk. Which is more than a compliment coming from someone like Dan.

"Dan! Dinner!" His mother calls, and he pushes himself up using his elbows, smile still on his face. It's not going to go away just because he has to go and eat some shitty family meal, because he knows that tomorrow at school he'll be able to see Phil again, and that's enough to get him through any kind of insults that his brother will undoubtedly treat him to whilst he eats.

\--

Phil presses down on the piano keys, trying to figure out how to play the composition that Dan played in that one piano class. He has a relatively good musical ear when it comes to this, and the notes are practically engraved in his mind, but he can't get it quite right.

With an irritated sigh, he stops for a moment and closes his eyes, trying to imagine the sound for the thousandth time. He doesn't notice his father walk in until he feels the hand on his shoulder squeezing gently, and he almost yelps in surprise.

"Jesus, give me some warning," he mumbles under his breath when he looks up to see his Dad standing over him, a small smile on his face. Phil waits for him to leave, but instead the older man grabs a chair from the dining table behind them and pulls it up to sit by Phil at the piano.

"You look distracted, and you have done for a couple of weeks. Is it this Dan kid?" The deep voice of his father is almost scarily similar to Phil's own, except it's somewhat more cracked, with more of an accent than Phil's own. It's soothing, however, and Phil smiles weakly as he looks round at him.

"I guess you could say that. I'm trying to play a piece he wrote, but I can't get it right," Phil mumbles, and his Dad looks at him, confused.

"You haven't got any sheet music,"

"There isn't any. Dan doesn't compose like that," Phil shrugs, looking down at his long fingers, which are still resting on the keys.

"Well, then that's probably why you're having trouble playing it. But I don't think that's what's bothering you so much,"

Phil sighs. He hates his family's ability to see right through everything he does. With a shrug, he looks back up at his Dad.

"No, not really. I just keep thinking about how he's alone, I suppose,"

"He's at home, right? He has his family," the old man says, a hint of confusion in his tone. 

Twisting his body round so he's completely facing his Dad, Phil shakes his head.

"No, he doesn't. They treat him like shit, I've seen it. And I don't understand. Why the hell are impures treated so badly, Dad? I've had the textbook version spewed at me a thousand times, but I genuinely don't understand how anyone can treat a human being like that," Phil croaks.

He tries to blink back tears, but the images of the first time in the bathroom are right at the forefront of his mind, and they still make him sick. The idea that someone would do that to Dan, sweet, kind, vulnerable Dan, is absolutely beyond him.

"it's always been the way, Phil. There's a lower and higher class. It used to be done just on money, so people could move between ranks, but now it's deeper than that. Your friend doesn't have a chance of getting out of the class that he's been forced into, unfortunately, no matter who it is. The lower class, the poor, couldn't afford the genetic modification, so they became almost like a sub species. This is a relatively wealthy area, most people here are pures, but travel over the world and you'll find literal pits full of people that couldn't afford privilege, Phil. They're second class citizens in the eyes of almost every law on this planet," his father says quietly, and Phil's fingers curl into fists.

He knows all of this. He's had it explained a thousand times by history teachers, but at the same time, he still can't quite grasp it. Why on earth are humans, humans that as far as Phil is concerned are actually far more pure than himself with all his modifications, treated like this?

He supposes it's because so many don't believe that they're even human at all. That they don't have whatever it is that makes us truly human. Beauty, talents, intelligence. All of those things that people pay thousands for so that their children can be 'pure', so that they can be of a higher ranking.

Yet they are far from perfect. The kids that rape Dan, the ones that throw Dan punches, the ones that hurl words at Dan. All of those people, how are they superior to any one else? How are they any purer than anyone else?

"You care about him a lot, don't you?" His Dad asks after a few seconds of silence, and Phil sighs.

"He's always getting hurt, and no one cares. No one cares at all. Even his own family, Dad, how does that work? I can't always be there to stop him getting hurt, either. I can't make it better," Phil mumbles, burying his face in his hands.

He feels a hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly. Phil's chest rises with a single sob, and he curses himself internally, but doesn't stop.

"When your mother and I decided to have you, we couldn't figure out what traits we wanted you to have. Frankly, we didn't want to have to go for genetic modification at all, but we knew what kind of life awaited you if we didn't, and we couldn't force you into that. So we chose kindness, and we chose maths, because at least then you'd have a set path if you needed it. We wanted you to be your own person, as difficult as it is in a world like this. We didn't want you stuck like us, we didn't want you to not be able to pursue your own dreams. As far as we were concerned, you'd have been perfect with or without modifications. We wanted to make sure you were treated right. And we don't regret that decision, and we never once have done, but morally it probably wasn't the right one,"

Phil freezes. He's never heard this one before, never heard that they even considered not modifying him. He lifts his head, confusion written all over his face, and is about to open his mouth to say something when his Dad continues.

"I know how much you like this kid. I know better than you probably think I do, quite honestly, Phil. I don't really care what, or who, you're doing, because it's your life, but be careful. Please,"

His Dad stands up to walk away, and Phil immediately stands up too.

"Dad," he starts, waiting for his father to turn back around and face him before he says anything. "Thank you,"

"Go get him kid," his Dad whispers, and Phil grins.

He walks out of the other door, leading to the hallway, and reaches for his coat. Without forgetting to grab his keys, he slams the front door shut behind him, and takes out his phone.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're finally here thank fuck. please make sure u read chapter 11 bc that was posted yesterday bc it was so short so i felt like u deserved 2 chapters this week.

Phil practically skips down the path, a wide smile on his face. The darkness above him is spreading like someone knocked over an ink bottle onto the light blue canvas of earlier, and he looks up to see the first few stars appearing.

Under his breath, he whispers a silent wish, and clutches his phone tighter in his hand. He has to do this, and he has to do it now before he thinks about it too much. He doesn't want to think about the impossible situation this could put both him and Dan in, how much shit they'd get for it. He'd be damned if he's going to let the thoughts of other people and what they could do to him put him off doing what he has to do, because that's not the kind of person he is, and it's not the kind of person he'd ever want to be.

He's not far from Dan's house. He couldn't believe how close Dan lives to him at first, it was like everything in the universe was screaming for them to be together more. And Phil tried to ignore it, he really did, because he didn't want to put himself in a position where he could hurt Dan, and he didn't think that Dan probably felt the same.

But now all he can think is _fuck all that_ because who cares what happens afterwards? If he doesn't try he'll never know. If he spends his whole life with his head down low and his hopes up high then he's never going to get anywhere.

He jumps over a stone on the pavement even though he doesn't need to, because it wasn't that big really, and he feels like he's on top of the world. His heart is racing and he feels light headed and sick and dizzy and every single synapse in his body is on _fire_. He's actually going to do this.

He turns the final corner, and takes a deep breath. It will be exactly twenty paces before he reaches Dan's house. Twenty more steps.

_Ten more steps_.

Looking to his left, he sees the house and he's grinning so widely. Until he looks through the window, and he sees what's going on beyond it.

Dan doesn't seem him. He doesn't even flinch as the plate is smashed over his head by his little brother, who by the looks of things is absolutely screaming at Dan. Phil's mouth drops open with horror as he sees Dan's parents sat at the dining table, not moving a muscle, watching the scene with an expression that Phil can only describe as a sick curiosity.

Still not moving, Dan just blinks blankly as more words are hurtled at him by a brother that's almost blue in the face with rage, and Phil's hands clench into fists.

He's not going to stand by this time. He's not going to let Dan get hurt anymore, not again, not after what he set out to do this evening.

Barely thinking, he strides up the driveway and hammers on the door, screaming Dan's name without a second thought. In the corner of his eye, he can see the lights in the house next to Dan's turning on and curtains twitching to see what on earth is happening next to their house, but he doesn't care who sees.

"Dan!" He shrieks again, but the door doesn't budge. Desperately, he runs back in front of the window to see Dan staring right at him in shock, mouth opening as if to say something. It falls shut when a punch hits him square in the gut, and Phil's hands bang on the glass.

"No! Leave him alone!" He shouts, trying to get Dan to make eye contact with him again.

Thankfully, he does, and he darts the next punch. Phil can see him sprint out of the room, and he matches the pace to run back to the front door.

The second it's open, he pulls Dan behind him, just in time for Alex to come running into the corridor, fists balled.

"You touch him, and I swear to God I will knock you out right here. I am twice your size, don't think I couldn't do it you piece of shit," Phil spits, feeling Dan latch onto the back of his t-shirt.

Alex stops, but doesn't back down. Phil reaches behind his back and finds one of Dan's hands, lacing their fingers together. He hears a small whimper, and he wonders how badly he's actually hurt.

"If you hurt him, I will hurt you twice as much. It's as simple as that. I'm going to take him upstairs now, and sort him out, and you're going to clean up the mess you've made in your dining room, okay?" Phil asks, voice shaking a little. Dan's not sure whether it's from anger or fear or sadness, or a combination of all three.

Dan buries his face in Phil's shirt as he waits for his brother to move. He can feel blood dripping down his face from the plate that was smashed over his head, and there are a few tears falling too, which he inwardly curses himself for. Why the hell is he crying? He's had far worse done to him before, and yet-

Phil's arms are around him, and he represses the urge to shudder or flinch away. This is Phil, he tries to remind himself. Phil's just saved him, he's not going to hurt him. He's had plenty of time to do that, and Dan thinks that if he was going to, he would have done it by now.

He's being guided up the stairs, and he figures that his brother is doing what Phil wanted. Phil stops at the top of the stairs, holding him tightly for a few seconds before pulling away at holding Dan at arm's length, inspecting him carefully.

Despite the fact that Dan is technically taller than Phil, he couldn't feel any smaller as Phil's fingers run gently over his face as he looks at the damage. Dan can feel one cut above his eyes, another on his temple, and his stomach is still turning from the punch.

"They're bleeding quite heavily. Do you have any plasters?" Phil whispers hoarsely. Dan doesn't have to look into his eyes to know that they have tears in them, and he shrugs his shoulders.

"Probably in the cabinet in the bathroom. If not, then they're downstairs, but..."

"We're not going downstairs. If we can't find any then I'll hold something against them until they stop bleeding and then I'll take you to my house. I might do that anyway, actually..." Phil trails off, thinking hard as he bites his lip. He can't exactly leave Dan here overnight, not with his brother still in the house. He's pretty certain that the second Phil leaves, Dan will be at the hands of his brother with nothing to stop the beating this time.

"No, Phil, I can't leave. Please, if I leave I won't be able to come back," Dan says frantically, eyes searching Phil's face.

Kissing the top of Dan's forehead reassuringly, Phil hushes him, pulling him back into his arms.

"We need to get you cleaned up first, before we think about anything like that. Come on," Phil whispers, pulling Dan gently towards the bathroom.

Phil reaches for a flannel, and he turns on the tap to dampen it. Ringing it out so that it's not too wet, he looks around for the cabinet Dan was talking about. He finds it quickly, and turns round to face Dan, who's sat himself on the toilet as he waits.

"Hold this against the one above your eye; that one is bleeding the most and I think it's going to bruise the most too. I'm going to see if you have any antiseptic or anything like that, and then I'm going to need to check your stomach to make sure it's not too bad,"

Dan nods, not in any kind of position to refuse the help at this point. His head is ringing from the pain, and he struggles to focus his eyes on Phil as the black-haired boy moves to the other side of the room and starts to rummage through the cabinet.

Pulling out a couple of plasters, Phil looks into the depths of the obviously rarely used cabinet. He can't see any kind of antiseptic, but he does find a couple of painkillers and some natural sleeping pills that he thinks Dan will probably need if he's in a lot of pain.

"Hey, here we go, let me have a look," Phil says sweetly, turning back around with a smile.

He takes the flannel from Dan's hand and dabs the wound with it, watching Dan flinch at the pain. He bites his lip with worry as he murmurs. "How bad does it hurt, Dan?"

"I've had worse," Dan says honestly with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Phil looks round at the other cut and sees that it has stopped bleeding on his own, so he leaves the one above Dan's eyebrow unattended for a moment so he can clean the blood off Dan's face and put a plaster on the cut.

It only takes about another minute for the other wound to stop bleeding too, and he deals with that one in due course. His free hand finds Dan's, and he smiles a little bit despite himself. Every time they hold hands, it reassures Phil a little more that Dan is actually accepting his friendship, and not just having it because he feels like Phil is forcing it upon him.

"Sweetheart, take these," Phil says, handing Dan a couple of pills. He reaches round behind him and takes the cup off the sink that he guesses the family use for rinsing after brushing their teeth and fills it with water before handing it to Dan.

Dan takes the pills quietly, without protest, and keeps his eyes on the floor.

"Thank you. For being here, I mean. If you hadn't come when you did I don't know what he would have done to me," Dan admits shyly without looking up at Phil. A blush creeps onto his cheeks when he hears Phil's deep laugh.

"It's okay. I'd come over to ask you something, but I think it can wait till tomorrow now. I need to check your stomach, and then you need to go to bed. Oh, and are you having any trouble seeing or anything? You might have a concussion..."

Phil wishes that he knew more about what he was doing, but frankly all his medical knowledge has been gained off the internet and he knows better than to rely on it completely. The last thing he wants to do is call an ambulance, because Dan will get second class treatment in a hospital and Phil doesn't think he can sit through that, but he knows that he'll have to if it's necessary.

Ignoring the way that his vision is swimming, Dan shakes his head no. He's had concussion before and he doesn't want to go back to a hospital, so he'd rather suffer through it and lie.

Phil lifts up his shirt a little, and Dan moves his hands from in front of his stomach as if permission to let Phil look. He winces when Phil's fingers brush against the skin, and he hears Phil gasp a little at the red marks, shaped exactly like his brother's knuckles. There are other old and fading bruises and scars on his stomach too, and Phil's eyes wander to them, almost transfixed.

"I think it'll be okay," he whispers when he's done, pulling Dan's shirt down so he doesn't have to look at the marks anymore. "Come on, let's get you to bed,"

Phil helps Dan to his feet, and slips the sleeping pills into his pocket, just in case. He practically has to pull Dan down the hallway, as he's still limping from the pain, and he opens the bedroom door softly. He can just about make out voices from downstairs before they enter Dan's room, and he doesn't even want to think about what they're discussing. Whatever it is, Phil knows for certain that it won't be Dan's parents scolding their younger son for hurting their eldest.

"Do you want to get changed?" Phil asks sheepishly as he lies Dan down on the bed.

"No," Dan croaks out, rolling onto his side and curling up, tucking his knees into his chest.

"Okay. Do you mind if I sleep next to you? Because I'm staying either way, but I'll just sleep on the floor if it'll make you uncomfortable,"

"Fuck, Phil, I need you close, if you don't mind. Please don't leave me, please," Dan practically pleads, feeling the tears welling up into his eyes.

He feels the bed dip behind him as Phil climbs into it, scooting as close to Dan as he can without touching him. Whilst Dan is feeling vulnerable, Phil doesn't want to go too far in case Dan thinks he's pushing him into anything.

"I'm not going anywhere," Phil reassures, curling up a little himself.

He watches Dan's side rise and fall as he cries, hands wrapped around his tummy. Quietly, Phil gets back up again and moves around to the other side of the bed so he can lie down facing Dan without making the brunette have to move at all.

"You're okay. I've got you, no one's going to hurt you," Phil says calmly, reaching out a hand to lightly touch Dan's cheek. He's surprised when Dan nuzzles into Phil's touch.

"I just wish I was normal. I wish that he didn't have the excuse to do this to me. I wish I wasn't some piece of dirt on everyone's shoe, I wish that I didn't even exist sometimes," Dan mumbles, closing his eyes and letting the tears fall freely.

"Hey, no, don't say that. You know what? As far as I'm concerned you _are_ normal. You're just as good, no, in fact, you're better than all of them, okay? You're no less than them. You are a wonderful person," Phil says quietly, gently rubbing Dan's cheek with his thumb.

"You would say that though," Dan sniffs, but Phil shakes his head.

"I don't just say things. I mean what I say, Dan, and I'm telling you that you are so important to me. What the hell does anyone else know about you? They don't know you. The two people that do know you both love you so much, okay? I wish you could see it, but until you can I'm going to tell you every fucking day because I don't lie,"

Dan lets the silence fall between them for a few moments. He lets out a contented sigh as he nods (which he regrets as soon as he does as the pain floods through his head), and reaches out an arm to wrap around Phil's waist. He feels Phil jump as if the contact startled him, and he's about to pull away in alarm when he remembers how reluctant he usually is to touch people, and how startled Phil must be to see Dan doing it willingly.

"I'm really glad you found me in that practise room," Dan says quietly, and Phil giggles in response.

"Me too, Dan. Me too." 


	13. Chapter 13

Usually, Phil's awakenings are a little less peaceful than this. It's a school day, and despite the voice in the back of his head screaming at him that he should be getting up and getting ready, he's all too happy to just stay where he is because it's warm and there's someone's arms around him and what the hell-

He cranes his neck around and sees Dan, face red and flustered in his sleep, mouth hanging slightly open and snoring just loud enough for Phil to hear it. Phil is pressed so firmly to the brunette that he wouldn't be able to move even if he wanted to, so he pushes away all thoughts of school and chuckles as he settles into Dan's touch.

There's a sliver of light falling onto them through the gap in Dan's curtains, and Phil watches as it reveals the unsettled dust in Dan's room, the particles moving slowly and aimlessly. He can feel every rise and fall of Dan's chest, which is in time with Phil's own breathing, and there are birds singing quietly outside.

A warmth spreads through Phil, from the top of his head to his toes as he realises that this is absolutely _perfect_.

He lets out a quiet sigh and reaches for Dan's hands, which are clasped together and resting on Phil's stomach. He pulls them apart gently, but doesn't try to move at all; instead he just holds them in his own and inspects them carefully. Dan's fingers are a little rough, and Phil hasn't noticed before how the nails are practically ripped to shreds. The skin around some of them is red from where Dan's bitten off the top layer, and Phil pulls up a hand so that he can blow on it gently and maybe relieve a little bit of the pain that they must be causing the boy pressed to his back.

The small gesture makes Dan shift a little, and Phil smiles. He shifts around too, turning his whole body so that he's facing Dan, making sure not to nudge Dan's arms off him.

"What- Phil?" Dan asks quietly, words slurred a little still from sleep. It makes Phil giggle a little, but he pulls away just slightly in case Dan's not comfortable with him being so close.

"We fell asleep," Phil states, and he can see the corners of Dan's lips twitch up.

"I can see that," Dan replies with a yawn, moving his arms away from Phil. He messes with his hair a little, realising that he probably looks like absolute shit, but then he stops.

He feels a blush rising to his cheeks when it finally catches up with him that he actually slept with his arms around Phil's waist and _oh fuck_ Phil probably hates him now for going too far and-

"Hey, what's wrong?" Phil asks when he notices the panic stricken look on Dan's face. He pushes himself up into a sitting position so that he's slightly more comfortable, and looks down at Dan, who isn't making eye contact with him.

"I'm sorry that my arms... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I-"

"You didn't, you idiot," Phil laughs, reaching down and poking Dan's cheek. "You're stupid, you know that? Of course I don't bloody mind. I've been awake for half an hour, if I hated it I would have woken you up earlier,"

Without waiting for Dan to reply, Phil reaches into his jeans for his phone, silently glad that it hasn't broken whilst he was sleeping on it. He sends a quick text to his Dad in reply to the messages he's gotten from him, and glances at the time. It's far too late to go to school, he thinks, so they can just stay here all day. Besides, he doesn't want Dan going to school anyway, not when there are people there that could hurt him even more than he already is.

He looks back at Dan and at the cuts on his face. They look deeper in proper light, but nothing too worrying, he doesn't think. He makes a mental note just to keep an eye on Dan all day, but if he's honest he's pretty sure that if anything was majorly wrong he would have seen it by now.

"I'm sorry for being such a pain. You probably hate me," Dan mumbles, burrowing himself into the covers so as to try and hide as much of himself as possible.

Phil sighs. He thought, last night, that maybe he was getting somewhere with Dan, but every time something happens to him he just retreats all over again. Not that Phil can exactly blame him, considering how shit Dan gets treated, it's just rather frustrating. Last night, Phil was all set up to tell Dan _exactly_ how he feels, and now he daren't breathe a word of it in case it puts Dan's back up.

"I literally couldn't not-hate you less, Dan," Phil replies.

He pulls the duvet off himself and sets it down on the mattress so he can lie down on top of it instead, and shuffles down so he's back facing Dan. Dan peeks out at him from over the duvet, and Phil giggles a little at it, tongue sticking out from between his teeth.

"What do you want to do today? We're not going to school, so?"

"Video games? Movies? I don't mind. What do you want to do? Because I'll just do that," Dan mumbles, and Phil shakes his head, smiling sadly.

"No. Don't do that, please don't. I don't want you to keep thinking that just because I'm 'pure' you have to do whatever I want you to, because that's not how it works. No human being is better than you, Dan, it doesn't matter what your genetics are. And you are more than my equal. So let's do what you want,"

Dan shakes his head as he realises that he's been misunderstood, and smiles at Phil shyly, "No, it's not that. It just, it makes me happy when I see you happy, so you choose whatever will make you happy, okay?"

A blush is spreading across Dan's face again and he hides it with the duvet, making Phil laugh loudly. The black-haired boy jumps off the bed, landing with a quiet thud, and reaches for Dan's rather extensive collection of video games and DVDs.

"Want to kill some shit to make you feel better, Dan?" Phil asks, throwing Call of Duty at the brunette's covered head. Dan nods eagerly, and pushes the duvet away completely.

-

"Uhm, Phil?" Dan asks quietly, not wanting to disturb the movie. He just caught a glimpse of the time, though, and he knows that he needs to warn Phil before she gets here.

"What's up, sweet?" Phil asks, looking across at Dan. They're inside a very messily made duvet fort, snuggled together with Dan's laptop and popcorn, and Phil can barely see Dan's profile. He doesn't really need to, though, since he has it all pretty much memorised.

"Carrie's coming around tonight, after she's finished school, which should be any minute now. We arranged it a few days ago, so..."

"Oh! I'd love to meet her!" Phil exclaims suddenly, arms flailing out and almost knocking Dan's laptop over, but instead catching the blanket and bringing the whole thing caving in.

Dan lets out a high pitched squeal as the duvet falls in front of his eyes and everything blacks out totally, making his heart race. He feels Phil's hand fumbling around in the dark, first of all finding Dan's shoulder, then his nose, but then making its way down to Dan's hand. Their fingers are locked together as they somehow try to dig themselves out of the blankets, never stopping laughing.

The duvet slips off their heads and they look up at each other, faces close and noses brushing. Dan laughs, which makes his face dip further forward. Phil's heart skips a beat as they stop. His heart is pounding in his chest as he stares at Dan's eyes, and the wonderful flecks of green and blue within the hazelnut warmth.

Neither of them hears the door opening as they're too lost in each other, and they don't stop staring until they hear the unmistakable, soft sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Carrie!" Dan squeaks, snapping his head up to face her. His hair is all ruffled, his shirt all crumpled, and she stares at him, confused, until Phil also looks around. His appearance is much the same as Dan's, except he's also wearing a crimson blush that almost makes Dan laugh again when he looks round to see him.

"Hi, sorry to interrupt you," she grumbles, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, Carrie this is Phil, Phil this is-"

"The infamous Carrie, I gather," Phil smiles, jumping onto his feet and dashing forwards to reach out a hand to Carrie. She takes it with a slight narrowing of the eyes, shaking it up and down once before Phil pulls away so he can help Dan up.

"And you're the equally as infamous Phil? Well, Dan didn't do you justice with his descriptions of you," Dan has lost count of the number of times he's blushed today and he groans, kneading his forehead with his palms.

"I don't talk about him that much!"

"P-lease, Daniel Howell. Ever since you met him you've been all Phil this and Phil that to me over text," she giggles, stepping over the remains of their fort carefully (she knows Dan well enough to figure that there is a laptop somewhere under that mess). She sits down on the floor and smoothes out her dress as she looks up at the two boys with a smile.

For the first time, she can finally see the person that Dan's finally found a second friend in. She looks him up and down, and can't help but think in the back of her mind about how he looks the total opposite to Dan, and yet exactly the same all at once. He's holding himself in the same way Dan does, and his smile lights up the room as much as Dan's. Most people wouldn't notice it, because Dan usually walks with his shoulders slumped, and Phil most definitely does not, but to anyone that's seen Dan without his guard up, they look so similar it's almost frightening.

Her smile falls, however, when her eyes catch sight of the cuts on Dan's face. She can feel her stomach churning as he sits down next to her, pulling Phil along with him, and she sees them in a better light. They're deep, she can tell, but were obviously well taken care for. Her heart surges with gratefulness to Phil when she realises that it must have been him that looked after Dan, considering that none of his family would.

"Dan," she whispers, and he doesn't need an explanation to know that she's noticed his wounds. He shrugs his shoulders and leans into Phil a little, which surprises Carrie even more than the similarities between them did. Dan willingly touching someone other than herself is not something she's accustomed to, and she wonders what this Phil boy did to win her best friend over like that, considering the fact that it took her years compared to the months he's had.

"It's okay," Phil says for him, and her gaze snaps to the black haired boy. Her lips curl into a small frown, and she flicks a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"What happened?" She asks him, and Phil mimics Dan's earlier shrug.

"I don't really know, other than the fact that his brother smashed a plate over his head. I didn't think it was important, really, I just wanted to make sure he was okay,"

Speaking about Dan as if he weren't in the room makes Phil's skin crawl, and he has to put an arm around Dan to reassure himself that Dan is still there, and to reassure Dan that Phil hasn't forgotten him. Carrie's eyes follow the gesture, and she sighs.

"Okay. As long as you're okay, Dan?" He nods immediately, looking at her with a sad smile.

"It's okay. I'm used to it,"

Silence falls between them for a moment, and Dan takes the opportunity to start fishing around in the blankets for his laptop. Carrie looks at him and then to Phil, before quietly muttering.

"We should get some of the snacks that you've stashed in the cupboards downstairs, Dan. Come on, Phil, come and help me," she stands up suddenly, reaching a hand out to take his.

He accepts it, somewhat reluctantly, and she pulls him up easily. She leads him downstairs, stopping in the kitchen. Phil glances at the window with a shudder, remembering for a split second what he saw when he arrived, but then he looks back at Carrie, whose face is set in a stern frown.

"You'd better not hurt him," she begins as she reaches into the cupboard for what they officially came down here for.

"What?" He asks, scrunching up his face in confusion.

"You are the first person that he's trusted in such a long time, Phil. And you'd better not hurt him, because if you do I don't think he'll ever recover," she says in a dangerously quiet voice. He shakes his head, despite the fact that she's not facing him.

"No. He's stronger than that,"

"No, he's not. I don't know what you think you know about him, but I can assure you that most of it is put on by him. You're only just going to now start getting glimpses into him, and even they will only be glimpses. I barely know him, and he's my best friend. If he lets you in and you hurt him, I can assure you that he will never open up to anyone again. He's not strong because he's been battered around so much any strength he had has been destroyed. And I think he can build it back up again, but he won't if he gets hurt by you,"

"I love him," Phil whispers. It's enough explanation, he thinks, and he sees Carrie stop what she's doing.

She turns around to face him, and he expects her to be frowning, but instead she's grinning like there's no tomorrow.

"Well. That makes two of us. So show him it, yeah? Show it to him in the way I never could," she says, almost bitterly, and picks up the armful of snacks that she's pulled out of the cupboard.

She leaves him standing there without another word, and Phil smiles at her back as she walks away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh yes i am going to keep teasing and teasing you with the phan in this you are not getting it easily i promise


	14. Chapter 14

Dan's not entirely sure what he's meant to expect of today.

He keeps thinking (rather stupidly) about yesterday afternoon, about when they were so close that they could have kissed without a second thought. There's the voice in the back of his mind telling him how stupid it is to keep thinking about it, how it must have been an accident on Phil's part, but at the same time, Dan's starting to wonder whether that voice is wrong.

All the signs are there. The way Phil looks at him, for starters. Sometimes, he'll turn around when Phil thinks that Dan's not looking at the black-haired boy will be staring at him. As soon as he meets Dan's gaze he'll avert his eyes, but it's not quick enough for Dan to not realise.

Then there's the way that Phil was pretty damn insistent about holding his hand all the goddamn time, even in front of Carrie's prying eyes. She can see it too, he knows she can by the way she pulled him out of the room and took him downstairs. Probably to warn him, Dan figures. Probably something about the fact that Dan is 'fragile' and that Phil better not 'break' him if he knows what's good for him. It's endearing, of course, that Carrie feels the need to protect him, as she always has done, but he wonders if it scared Phil a little. He knows all too well that when she wants to be, Carrie can be as scary as fuck.

Dan's not really sure what he and Phil are anymore. They were friends - with the potential to be best friends, Dan thinks - but now it feels like the lines are a little too blurred for that. For the most part Dan hates labels, considering the fact that he's had a massive one stuck on his forehead for practically his entire life, but right now he thinks that he could do with one for what he and Phil have. Labels are simple, at least. They tell you which box you're in, which is a comfort that Dan would quite like right now, because he honestly hasn't got a _clue_ what's going to happen today, and he's about three meters away from opening his classroom door.

He's purposefully early, knowing that Phil is usually early too. His wounds on his face are still throbbing a little, and they're immediately obvious to anyone that cares to look at him, but he doubts anyone will be concerned or anything. No, instead he expects that people will be whispering praises for whoever hurt him. Some of them will probably even think that it was Phil, considering the fact that they were both off school yesterday.

Biting his lip, his hand reaches out to open the door, and it creaks a little when it does. He peeks his head around the corner and catches a glimpse of the only boy that's in the room, and smiles a little when he recognises them.

"Morning, Dan," Phil grumbles, leaning forward on his desk. Dan's smile falters somewhat, and he walks a little tentatively towards his 'friend'.

"Good morning," he replies, pulling up a chair from the desk in front of Phil's and turning it around. He sits on it backwards, his legs wrapping around the backrest and his shin leaning on the slightly ridged plastic.

"I feel like shit," Phil mutters, looking up at him. Dan notes that he's wearing his glasses for the first time in a couple of weeks at school, and he reaches out a hand to lift Phil's chin up a little.

"What's wrong?" Dan asks quietly. Phil shrugs and shakes his head, mouth hanging open a little.

"Head is pounding, can't breathe through my nose and I feel like I'm so cold I'm going to freeze," Phil murmurs, and the corners of Dan's lips prick back up a little.

"You shouldn't walk home so late at night in the damn rain then, stupid," he teases, reaching forward a hand and poking Phil's cheek. The black-haired boy groans and slaps Dan's hand away half-heartedly.

"You kept me over there so late,"

"No, you were talking to Carrie until god knows what time in the morning. Mostly behind my back, too. Sharing conspiracy theories about me?" Dan asks, almost hesitantly. He doesn't exactly want to know what his friends were discussing, but there's a part of him that's curious nonetheless.

"Oh yes, Dan," Phil starts, his tone a little nasal, "we were talking about how you drool in your sleep and you munch your food too loudly and that you-"

"Okay, okay, I get the picture," Dan laughs.

He doesn't notice Phil reaching forward to hold Dan's hand until he feels a pair of hot fingertips on his skin, so warm it almost burns him. He snatches his hand away quickly, and sees a flash of concern flicker over Phil's face, before Dan quickly says, "You're just really, really warm. Feels like you have a fever, Phil. You should probably go home,"

"I wanted to see you," Phil croaks. Dan smiles, his heart flipping a little at the comment, and he reaches forward to brush Phil's hair out of his eyes.

"You've seen me, so now you can go home, right? There's no point you being here if-"

"Well, if it isn't Phil Lester and the impure," a voice interrupts Dan.

He shivers at the tone. He knows it all too well, and he freezes in place, eyes desperately searching Phil's.

"You've got him wrapped right around your little finger, Phil. I'd like to know how you did it. The little bitch is so desperately in love with you that he can't tell you just want him for what everyone else wants him for. A quick fuck," the words are spat, Dan can tell that without even turning around.

Phil visibly tenses up, and Dan watches as his eyes slowly move from Dan's to the boy standing behind him - Jacob. Dan can assume safely that it's not just him, either, and he knows that if they get in a fight Dan is well and truly screwed, and Phil will be too if he takes Dan's side.

Slowly, Phil stands up, fists clenched. He can see that Phil's shivering, but he's not sure whether it's because he's sick, or because he's angry.

"What did you say?" Phil says slowly. He props his weight up on the desk, not looking down at Dan once.

"You're a good actor, Phil. Anyone would have thought you actually _want_ to be with the impure," Jacob laughs, and as if on cue so do the other boys that are with him.

"And so what if I do?" Phil's voice is quiet, dangerously so. Dan shivers, finding his leg bouncing up and down with nerves.

"Seriously? Come on, Phil, you can't say you want this piece of shit for anything apart from his mouth and his ass,"

"Phil, don't rea-" Dan starts, but it's far too late to stop Phil doing anything.

The boy lurches for Jacob, grabbing his shirt in his fists. Phil throws him against the wall, and Dan flinches at the sound of Jacob's head snapping back and hitting it. An anguished cry rings out, piercing the silence of the room, and Dan squeezes his eyes shut.

"Don't you dare, don't you dare, speak of me or him like that," Phil whispers, and Dan hears Jacob let out a loud laugh.

"He's _nothing_. He is a piece of dirt on your shoe. He is there to be fucking used, Phil, don't give him illusions of being anything else,"

The crack that rings out through the room makes Dan yelp. It's accompanied by a small grunt and then a thud on Phil's part, and Dan thinks that he's going to be sick until he looks around and sees that it's not Phil on the floor, it's Jacob, and Phil's fist is still raised in the air.

"Phil!" He shouts in horror.

"Mr Lester!" Another voice thunders, and Dan's head snaps round to see their teacher standing in the doorway.

"He-" Phil begins, but he knows from the look on his teacher's face that it's pointless. Dan pushes the chair backwards, shuddering at the scratching sound, and opens his mouth to start pleading with his teacher.

"Straight to the headmaster, now! I can't believe you, of all people,"

“Sir! It wasn’t Phil’s fault, he was just standing up for me,” Dan starts, beginning confidently and then voice trailing off to nothing more than a mere whisper. The teacher looks upon him with pity, but shakes his head and reaches for the pad of slips on his desk.

“You too, Mr Howell, for talking back and lying to a teacher,” he grumbles.

Phil creases his brow and whips his head around to face his teacher, blood boiling, “Excuse me, but what? If anyone else had said that, they’d get a caution at most, why the hell are you sending him to the headmaster?”

“Phil, please don’t, please,” Dan begs meekly, but Phil shakes his head.

“No, Dan, no. It’s not fair. Why the fuck do they think they have a right to treat you like this? Like you’re not human? Send me to the head teacher all you damn well like, but Dan has done nothing and you know it!”

“Mr Lester! If you keep going, you’re right on your way to an expulsion, and how would you like that?”

Phil opens his mouth to say something else, but stops, shaking his head. It’s not worth it, he thinks, not when no one is willing to listen to reason.

He reaches for Dan’s hand the second they’re given their slips, and he pulls the brown-haired boy out of the classroom.

After a moment or two, he stops to lean against the wall, trying to catch his breath. Dan stops too, concern written all over his scrunched up face as he sees that Phil is still trembling, but now it’s probably more to do with being sick than being angry. There’s a thin layer of sweat on the black-haired boy’s forehead, and Phil squeezes his eyes shut.

“Adrenaline’s wearing off,” Phil says as an explanation, and Dan nods quickly. He doesn’t ask before putting a hand on Phil’s forehead, and he bites his lip hard when he realises that Phil _definitely_ has a fever.

“Shit, you’re so hot,” he mumbles, and Phil grins.

“Why thank you, you’re not so bad yourself,”

“And semi-delirious, apparently,” Dan giggles. He leans his shoulder against the wall, standing sideways on so he’s facing Phil’s profile. Once his laughter has subsided, he lets the silence fill in the gap between them.

Phil’s the one to break it as he looks down at the slip in his head, shaking his head, “We could just skip this whole go to the headmaster thing,”

“We’d get shot,” Dan shakes his head, looking down at his own slip. He reads the words quickly, scoffing a little in disbelief.

“Do you think me being about to pass out would be a good enough excuse? Because seriously, my head is swimming,” Phil says, still with a light tone of humour in his voice. Dan shakes his head at him, making a noise of disapproval.

“You shouldn’t have come into school. And you shouldn’t have punched him. I mean… I’ve heard a lot worse than that, Phil. Hell, they’ve done a lot worse than that, and you’ve seen it, so you know. Now they’re just going to be out to get you too,”

“Difference is Dan that I’m a pure. They’d be too fucking scared of me to do anything. With you, there’s no risk to them. Everyone will turn a blind eye. With me? I don’t think they’d have the balls,”

“Maybe, maybe not. But it’s not worth getting you in trouble. Then they can just say that you’re as bad as me,” Dan says with a small shrug, but it seems to strike something in Phil, who turns to face him with a stern look on his face.

“As bad as you? Dan, you’re literally the almost perfect definition of a good boy, except you skip class occasionally to get away from them. How on earth are you bad?”

“Well, maybe not that kind of bad. But I’m impure, right? My very existence is bad,”

Phil’s mouth hangs open a little as if he’s going to reply, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stands up as straight as he can, pressing a hand against the wall for support, and starts to walk away, leaving Dan stood there.

Dan rushes to his side quickly and puts that arm over his shoulder, holding Phil up himself. His stomach is churning a little in concern, and he figures that if the head sees Phil in this state he might let him off and just say to come back tomorrow, even if he doesn’t let Dan off. Dan can cope with being shouted at on his own, he’s had to endure it from other people many time before.

He half drags Phil to the head’s office, and the second the secretary sees him she’s on her feet and helping him move Phil to the sofa. The nurse is called for quickly, and Dan just sits there, watching as they all fuss over Phil and act as if Dan wasn’t even there. It doesn’t bother him particularly, considering the fact that it’s Phil who needs the attention, and he’s pretty used to it, but he knows that he could probably slip out of here unnoticed, and no one would question why Phil’s friend just left him when he was sick. In fact, that’s probably exactly the behaviour that they’d expect from an impure like him.

He’s too busy thinking to really dwell on it though. At the heart of it, Dan’s the reason that he and Phil are here, and it’s his fault that Phil’s going to get told off. He knew that the other kids wouldn’t take kindly to he and Phil behind friends, but he didn’t think that Phil would react in quite that way, and he didn’t in a million years expect Phil to be at the giving end of a punch. He didn’t even think Phil was capable of that, to be frank, and he still can’t quite believe it.

He shouldn’t have had to do that, though. Phil shouldn’t have to defend him, because he shouldn’t have anything to do with Dan. Technically, if you follow the letter of the law, impures are meant to be segregated, and it doesn’t look like that’s changing any time soon, not with all the old great campaigners giving up and hanging up their sashes and pickets. Dan’s lucky as hell to be in this school, but he doesn’t have the law on his side when it comes to any kind of interaction with Phil, and the black haired boy must damn well know that. He’s not stupid – in fact, Dan knows for a fact that he’s far from it, since he can still remember how well Phil did in that maths challenge where Dan first learnt Phil’s name – so he must realise that standing up to Dan like that, that being seen to be on Dan’s side, is probably one of the worst ideas he could have.

Dan doesn’t even care about the words being flung at him by his headmaster, too locked in his own thoughts to even really listen. Half of him is worried as hell about Phil, considering the fact that he seemed like he was worse than he would be if he just had a normal cold, and the other is thinking about how much trouble he’s probably going to get Phil into if he doesn’t stop this friendship right here and now. He likes Phil a lot, maybe a bit too much, and for the past month or so he’s been trying to kid himself into thinking that the main problem with them being together is that Phil doesn’t like him back, but the punch that Phil threw at that kid proves otherwise.

They wouldn’t be allowed to get married. Not that Dan is thinking that it’d get that far, but that on its own is enough to show what the world thinks of pures and impures having relationships together. They wouldn’t be allowed the same civil rights as long term couples that the government brought in a few years ago. They wouldn’t be allowed to adopt. They wouldn’t be allowed to share finances.

Nothing would work. Not even just pure friendship really works.

He shuts the headmaster’s door behind him, and looks out of the window. He’s surprised when he sees Phil being ushered by someone he assumes to be Phil’s Dad into a car, the nurse talking to the older man with a smile.

Phil’s being taken home, then. Dan smiles weakly, glad that at least he doesn’t have to endure the rest of the school day, even if it means that Dan is alone. And it gives more time to think about how the hell he’s meant to tell Phil that, for his own good, he really needs to stop being friends with Dan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this went a bit weird idk dont worry the next chap isnt too angsty its chapter 17 u have to watch out for dont say i didnt warn u


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look an extra chapter this week love me

If he bites his lip any harder, he’s probably going to draw blood. He’s stood outside Phil’s house, swaying back and forth on his feet as he waits for someone to answer the door, and even though it’s been seconds since he knocked, it feels like hours.

He knows now probably isn’t the best time to try and explain his reasoning to Phil about why they need to stop being friends, considering the fact that Phil is sick and is probably already pissed off enough with Dan as he got him in trouble, but he knows that if he doesn’t do it now he’ll never have the courage to. He knows that Phil can make him stay friends with him, and he knows that if he does he won’t have a choice but to stay, but he has to at least try.

Dan cannot risk Phil getting hurt again, not on his behalf. Just the thought makes him feel sick. Phil doesn’t deserve having to deal with Dan’s crap, but he’s the kind of person that would willingly do it, no matter what Dan says, so long as they stay friends. If they’re not talking, then Dan supposes that Phil has no business interfering in his affairs, so then he probably won’t do it. Probably.

The door cracks open, and Dan sees the man that he saw ushering Phil into the car later. The second the man sees Dan, his hard line frown softens into a gentle smile, one that looks almost an exact picture of Phil’s own.

“Dan, I assume?” He asks quietly, and Dan hesitantly nods. He’s still not one hundred percent sure where he stands with the Lester family, especially after the way he reacted to Phil’s mum.

“Come in, Phil’s been waiting for you,” the man says quietly, stepping to the side to let Dan in. Dan smiles and walks forward, past the man and into the hallway.

“He’s upstairs in his room. Will you be wanting to stay for dinner, Dan?” Phil’s Dad asks gently, and Dan’s almost stunned into silence. Being treated by adults – or anyone, for that matter – as an equal is not something that he’s particularly accustomed to.

Dan nods a little, giving no indication as to whether he’s actually answering the question or not (mostly because he’s not sure whether he’ll even be friends with Phil by the end of the evening), and quickly bounces up the stairs instead of staying to make small talk.

He knocks on Phil’s bedroom door and is invited in by a croaky voice, followed by a fit of coughs. Dan winces at the sound, which is painful just to hear.

Walking in through Phil’s door, he plasters a smile on his face as he takes in the sight before him. Phil’s lying on the floor, legs spread out and hands gripping a console controller. His eyes are focussed on his television, which obviously has the brightness turned down to as low as possible to be easy on Phil’s headache, and the sound is at a bare minimum. Phil puts down the controller the second Dan walks in, grinning up at the brunette.

“I look great, right? Perfect excuse to get out of being in trouble, though. My dad managed to convince them that I was so sick I didn’t have a clue what I was saying or doing,” Phil almost laughs, and Dan smiles despite himself, but doesn’t look straight at Phil. Instead, he looks down at his hands, picking at his nails absently.

“Yeah. About that. Phil-“

“God, you’re not here to give me the ‘we shouldn’t be friends if you’re going to do things like that’ speech, are you? Don’t give me a look of innocence, Dan, I can see right through you. I know you’re probably blaming yourself, but please don’t. I chose to do that, and to be honest even if you decided that you hated me and you never spoke to me again, I’d probably still do it for you. They don’t have a right to treat you like that, no one does,”

Dan’s so taken aback that he just stands there, staring with his mouth hanging slightly open.

Phil laughs loudly, voice a little hoarse, when he looks up at Dan, and makes grabby hands for the brunette to join him. Dan hesitates, not sure if it’s a good idea (mostly because Phil is sick and he doesn’t particularly fancy getting a cold himself), but he moves anyway, sitting down next to Phil and watching as he picks his controller back up and starts to play again.

“Do you want to play against me? I bet you suck,” Phil says with a grin, and Dan looks at him in mock horror.

“Sir, I am offended. We can take it in turns to play impending doom on the mad gear zone, bet you’d never fucking beat me,” Dan teases, and Phil curls a fist and puts it to his chest.

“I solemnly promise to kick your ass at this game,” he says in a serious tone, and Dan starts to giggle as he takes the controller out of Phil’s hands to pick the right level.

“You won’t be able to keep your promise, and then you will have failed yourself, Philip,” Phil rolls his eyes at Dan and takes the controller back.

“How do you know?” He whines, and Dan grins at him.

“You just seem like the kind of guy that really sucks at Sonic,” Dan replies with a glint in his eye, and Phil frowns.

“Game on, Howell,”

\--

“Fuck sakes!” Phil shrieks, making Dan start to giggle again. He turns his head, which is leaning on Phil’s shoulder, and buries his nose into the fabric of Phil’s t-shirt to try and stifle his laugh.

“You really are the kind of guy that sucks at Sonic,” Dan says once he’s managed to gain enough composure to talk again, eyes going to the screen as he watches Phil get trapped by the moving wall. Again.

“I just don’t see how you’re meant to do it! You did it like second time round, how did you manage that?” Phil moans, pouting a little. He’s maybe just a little genuinely upset, but it’s obviously because he’s more emotional due to the fact he’s sick. Dan seems to notice, and his mocking smile subsides into a softer one.

“I’ll show you. Do you mind-?” Dan points to the space between Phil’s legs, and Phil shakes his head quickly.

Dan manoeuvres himself so that he’s sat in the gap, not daring to lean back into Phil’s chest. He thinks that that would probably be taking it a step too far (and besides, he doesn’t want to get sick) so he settles for leaning forward purposefully, taking the controller and getting ready to play again.

He’s about halfway through when he feels Phil’s hands snake round to hold onto his sides, and he can’t help but shudder a little at the way Phil’s fingers touch his just exposed hips. Phil obviously notices because his touch lightens a little, and then moves so that his hands are locked in front of Dan’s stomach. He pulls Dan back into his chest gently, almost making Dan die on the game, but Dan manages to pull it back. He has the game under control, but his breathing certainly isn’t.

“See, it’s easy,” he grumbles, trying to keep his focus on the video game, but struggling with every passing second as Phil places his chin on Dan’s shoulder, nuzzling into the crook between his neck and his shoulder.

“Hmm. You’re really good at it,” Phil replies, voice a little more high-pitched than usual.

Dan’s fingers are trembling as he presses the buttons, miraculously managing to get to the end of the level. He knows that his plan of having Phil watch him over his shoulder was not exactly successful, considering the fact that it’s pretty obvious Phil has been paying more attention to him then the game.

“Is this too much?” Phil asks, moving his head from Dan’s shoulder and sitting up a little straighter. He’s looking down at the brunette.

Tipping his head back, Dan stares at Phil’s slightly flushed face and hair, damp with sweat, with a small smile.

“Nope, just perfect,” nodding, Phil looks around for a moment nervously, biting his lip. It’s an action that Dan mimics, and he realises that Phil’s probably about to try and start to have a deeper conversation with him then he really wants to face right now.

“Look, Dan. I was thinking. Your career form, are you sure you don’t have any other choice? My parents know people in the music industry, they could do something, I don’t know. You could freelance, you could work at a till, you could do anything, anything but what you’ve put down,” Phil fumbles a little with his words, and Dan sighs, leaning back so that his head is on Phil’s shoulder again.

“I don’t know, Phil. I’m not really good enough, am I? And to be quite honest I’d probably end up killing myself if I was working on a till, and I’m not even joking. It would drive me nuts,”

“But it’s got to be better than… That, right?” Phil almost pleads, and Dan frowns, confused.

“Where has all this come from?” Dan asks quietly, and he can feel Phil shrugging. Presumably absently, Phil runs his fingers through Dan’s hair with a sigh, and Dan shudders at the heat of them.

Phil’s probably sick and thinking too hard, he thinks. When he gets sick himself, Dan knows that he always dwells too much on things that are bugging him at the back of his mind, so this must be exactly what’s happening here.

“I guess it’s because I care about you a lot, and I don’t want to see you get hurt, is all. And it kind of scares me that’s all you think you’re good enough for, that all you are is a body to be used for whatever any pure wants,” Phil’s voice is almost inaudible, but it’s loud enough for Dan to hear, and it’s loud enough to cause the tears that are stinging Dan’s eyes.

“It’s all I’ve ever been good for. I can still remember the first time, you know. It was almost five years ago, and it was fucking awful, but it told me exactly what I was good for. And it wasn’t a kid then, it was a fucking teacher, Phil. A teacher. It’s not even like it’s just a bunch of asshole kids, it’s adults, it’s people I’m meant to be able to trust. They can all see it, they all know that I’m just a fuck toy. I’ve hated people touching me ever since then, but it’s all I’m good for, isn’t it?” Dan closes his eyes and lets the tears fall as soon as he’s finished talking. A few choked sobs escape his slightly open mouth, and he shudders at the feeling of Phil cupping his cheek.

“No. That’s not all you’re good for, of course it’s not. You are gorgeous, kind, intelligent, talented. You are wonderful,”

Leaning down, Phil presses a smell kiss to Dan’s forehead, and Dan smiles weakly at him.

“You’re biased. I’m not gorgeous, I look like a fucking potato, you idiot,” Dan chuckles, sniffling and letting a couple of more tears run down his cheeks. Phil laughs and uses his fingers to wipe the tears away.

“No. I am science, Daniel. And fine, if you’re a potato, then I am potato science,” Dan splutters as he laughs, and Phil giggles at him until he’s interrupted by a coughing fit, which in turn makes Dan laugh even more.

“Fuck, we’re a mess,” Dan somehow gets out through laughs.

Phil stares at him as he says it, his dimples showing prominently and his cinnamon eyes almost on fire from laughter. He can barely help himself when he wraps that hand back around Dan’s cheek and pulls the brunette’s face up a little, just enough so that Phil can lean down and put his lips to Dan’s.

Freezing in utter shock, Dan stares at Phil for less than a second before the butterflies in his stomach start to go wild and he can’t stop himself kissing back, pushing up into Phil’s kiss and turning himself around so he’s more comfortable.

His weight makes Phil lean back a little, leaning against the foot of his own bed, and Dan licks gently across Phil’s bottom lip, making sure it’s a small enough gesture that Phil can ignore it without feeling guilty if he doesn’t want to grant Dan access. Instead, however, he opens his mouth willingly, and Dan slips his tongue into Phil’s mouth, running it along the top of Phil’s mouth and drinking in everything about the kiss, from the way Phil’s hands have instinctively moved to lace themselves in Dan’s hair, tugging on it gently yet desperately. Dan’s own hands are still by his sides, clenched into fists and trembling. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but one of Phil’s hands leaves his hair to guide him, moving a closed fist to Phil’s hip.

Dan relaxes his hand and grabs Phil’s side, caressing the skin, just exposed below Phil’s top as it has ridden up, and audibly sighs with pleasure into the kiss. He can feel the electric sparks jumping from Phil’s fair to his own lightly tanned skin everywhere they’re touching, and he thinks that he could lose himself in this feeling forever.

Phil pulls away only to cough, and Dan grimaces a little. Catching it out of the corner of his eye, Phil pouts.

“What, was I really that bad?”

“No, it’s just that I’ve probably just caught your flu thing,” Dan sighs, moving off Phil and propping himself up against the bed.

“Totally worth it, though?” Phil asks, almost nervously, as he puts a hand around Dan’s waist and snuggles into Dan.

“Completely.” Dan says without hesitation, still a little breathless. He can hear his heart thudding in his ears and it’s making him feel slightly sick and dizzy, but in the best way possible. Everything about that kiss was better then he could have even imagined.

“We should do that again, I think. If you want to. I don’t know. I like you a lot,” Phil says, fumbling a little. He’s incredibly aware that he might be moving too fast for Dan, or that Dan might feel like he’s being pressurised into a relationship he doesn’t actually want, and that’s the last thing Phil wants. He wants this to be Dan’s decision, because, ultimately, what’s the point of them being together if Dan doesn’t want to be?

“I like you too,” Dan resigns to saying, ignoring the urge to actually go full out and use the only word he has in his arsenal to express the true extent of his feelings.

“Good. Because I kinda love you, and I think that I’d be sort of lost if you didn’t at least like me a little bit,” Phil says, almost guiltily, and Dan feels his heart swelling with affection.

He looks down at Phil and pokes his nose gently with a giggle, loving the way that the pale boy’s cheeks flush with colour. “Dork,”


	16. Chapter 16

Dan can’t wipe the huge smirk off his face as he slips through his front door, shutting it behind him as quietly as he can. It’s gone midnight, and the last thing he wants is to wake up any member of his family, and they’d definitely want to know where he’s been all night. They won’t care so long as he can make up the excuse that he must have come home just after they went to bed, but that would all go out of the window if they saw him now.

After he and Phil kissed, they didn’t even really do anything, but Dan still managed to lose track of the time. They ate with Phil’s family as they quizzed Dan about all kinds of things, most of them to do with school or his own family, and neither he nor Phil said a word to each other, they just kept their hands entwined under the table.

In fact, Dan swears that Phil didn’t let go of his hand at all until Dan looked up at the time and noticed how late it had gotten. Not that Dan’s complaining (even if he knows that it will mean he’ll end up with whatever Phil has, but he doesn’t really mind all that much), in fact, quite the opposite. It’s just strange, for him, to have any kind of affection like that from anyone. No one has ever really wanted to get near to him for such a long time that he almost forgot how nice it was to have someone that did.

His fingertips brush against his lips as he reaches a hand up to them. He still can’t quite believe it, if he’s honest. Considering what he'd set out to do, the outcome feels like a dream.

He climbs up the stairs two by two as quietly as he can, before slipping into his bedroom before anyone could see him on the corridor. He throws himself down onto his bed and buries his face in his pillow, strangely awake considering how much of an emotional rollercoaster this day has been.

Humming almost silently, he looks around his room for something to do, and his eyes fall on the book that he's been reading the past couple of weeks. He's a slow reader, so he's barely half way through, but he knows what's inevitably coming in the next few pages. He's been reluctant to keep reading ever since he figured out, but it's late and he has nothing better to do, so he reaches out for the book with a smile.

Sure enough, as he turns more pages he finds tears in his eyes, some of them falling onto the crisp pages of the book. Just as he's about to get angry enough with the story line to throw it across the room, his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he looks down to see that he has a text.

**_Phil:_ ** _can u sleep?_

Dan chuckles, smiling a little. He wipes his eyes and sets the book down upside down in his lap.

**_Me:_ ** _no. i guess u cant either_

**_Phil:_ ** _too awake. ring me?_

Dan shakes his head a little at Phil's question, but quickly dials his number anyway. He's not one to say no to Phil, whether he wants to or not.

Phil picks up the second Dan rings, and the brunette knows that his friend was waiting for him.

"I feel like shit and I miss you," Phil mumbles before Dan gets a single word out, and the corners of Dan's lip quiver up into a shy smile. He opens his mouth to reply, but Phil keeps going before he can "Plus, I keep thinking too much. I do that when I'm sick, as you probably gathered earlier. But, like, and this is kind of a stupid question because if I don't know you probably haven't got a fucking clue either, but what are we?"

Dan pulls his bottom lip up and bites it between his teeth as he contemplates the question. He'd know what he'd like them to be, but it'd be too much to ask of Phil when Dan's an impure. The stigma would be huge on Phil, and Dan doesn't want that.

"I don't know. I mean... There are a lot of issues with anything we are, Phil. What with me being..."

"Don't say it like that,”

“I’m not. I’m just… trying to be practical. It’s not even really legal for us to do anything, Phil. As long as it suits pures, they don’t care about using us, but if it’s something that isn’t beneficial to them, then oh no, it’s against the law,”

“That’s because this government is stupid. I wish we lived in America, or one of the European countries. It would even be legal for us to marry over there,” Dan giggles despite himself and rolls over onto his stomach.

“You want to marry me, Phil? A day after we kissed?”

“Well, not today you fucking moron,” Phil quips, and Dan sniggers, clasping a hand over his mouth so that his parents don’t hear him. “But, like, even if we didn’t marry, even if it doesn’t work out at all and in a year we both hate each other, I think I’d like to live somewhere where I can marry whomever I like,”

“I think I’d just like to live somewhere where people don’t treat me like a piece of dirt stuck to their shoe,” Dan mumbles. Phil doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence. They both sit there, listening to each other’s breathing, and Dan lets his eyes flutter shut to focus more on the sounds.

“We could do it, you know. After school ends, we could run away, you and me. I could get us tickets onto a plane somehow; I think my Dad would help me. And even if we don’t stay together – which is probably sort of likely if you use statistics, but I think we have a shot – then at least we’ll be somewhere where we can be free. They don’t even have career forms in America. We could literally do whatever we wanted,” Phil’s voice has a hint of childlike wonder, and it breaks Dan’s heart to know that he has to tell Phil that there’s no way that’s possible.

“Phil, I’d never get a pass to leave the country. I’m impure so I’m regulated, remember?”

“We could fake the documents. The Americans wouldn’t give a shit, Dan, once we’re there we’re safe. Both pures and impures have full rights,”

“But Phil-”

“I’m not saying we do it tomorrow, or next month. But I think it’s got to be something to consider. You’re not safe here Dan,”

Dan waits for a moment before replying, and he makes sure his voice is as soft as possible, “I understand, Phil. I do. But let’s not do anything rash or stupid, okay? We’ll do what feels right at the time, but for now we have to finish school, okay? And you have to sleep, because you sound fucking awful,”

Phil laughs at him, but it’s choked by a cough, and Dan raises an eyebrow to his ceiling.

“Go, sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow,”

“I love you,” Phil says without a second thought, and Dan hesitates before replying.

“I love you too,”

-

“He kissed me,” Dan says quietly, looking up at the sky. Carrie is sat beside him on the grass, staring out at the lake.

“Woah. Really?” She asks, looking around at him. He nods and glances down at his hands. He’s fiddling with them nervously, and she notices. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s not that. I just… He’s a pure, Carrie,” he whispers, voice a little hoarse. His eyes flicker back up to the slowly setting sun in the sky, and he smiles a little at the colours. He picks out a particular blue that is an almost perfect clone of Phil’s eye colour, although it lacks the green and brown flecks that fill out the ocean contained in them. You really could go swimming in those eyes.

“He chose you, Dan. He doesn’t seem like he’s prejudice – quite the opposite, in fact. He’s the first person I’ve met in a very long time that genuinely believes in impures being the same as pures. And he’s… He’s nice. If you’re going to be with anyone, I’m happy that it’s him,” Dan doesn’t detect the faint hint of bitterness in her voice, so he just groans and shakes his head, falling back onto the grass.

“I know. But other people don’t understand that. And he reacts badly to people when they say stuff. If we do become official, then we’re going to have to deal with a lot worse than the kid that he punched out the other day,”

“He just wants to protect you. I would do the same, and I know you would do the same for me. If they were having a go at him, wouldn’t you want to protect him?”

“Yes, but-”

“There aren’t any buts, Dan. He loves you. I can see it in the way he looks at you. And I know that you love him, considering the fact that you can’t stop staring at him when he’s not looking. I don’t even think you know that you’re doing it most of the time, to be honest,” Carries lies down to join him, and he turns his head to face her.

She smiles warmly, brown eyes crinkling as she does. Dan reaches out to take her hand, and entwines them tightly, lying them down on the grass.

“Where the hell would I be without you, Carrie? You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,”

She hums, but doesn’t say anything in response. He keeps his mouth shut, despite the fact that he’s pretty sure he knows what she’s thinking.

It didn’t take much to figure it out, not after he started noticing the way that Phil looks at him compared to the way that Carrie looks at him. He feels sorry for her, more than anything.

He’ll never say anything, though. It’s better for both of them.

“Hm, well, right about now you’d be with your boyfriend instead of wasting time with me,”

“Hey! It’s not a waste of time. I like making sure that you’re okay. I know that pure kids hang around your school all the time just waiting for you all to come out, and it kind of scares me. I think, because the pures at my school are around me all the time, they don’t see as much novelty in attacking me, but with you lot… Most of those pures have never even met one of us,”

“It’s not too bad, really. I mean, the worst that has happened is a broken arm. Our teachers usually step in,”

“Lucky for some,” Dan scoffs, and Carrie uses her free hand to poke his face.

“Yes, but you now have your beautiful boyfriend to protect you,”

“Don’t call him my boyfriend. He’s not, not yet, anyway. We didn’t want to label it, I don’t think,”

“Labels or no labels, I think you’re boyfriends.” She says with a smug smile.

He hits her playfully and she squeals. With a huge grin, she pushes herself up off the ground and kicks him lightly, making Dan groan (a little more loudly than really necessary).

“You’re in for it,” he growls, reaching for her legs and pulling her back down to the ground.

She hits the grass with a thud and bursts into giggles as Dan reaches for her stomach with his fingers, tickling her gently. She tries to slap his hands away half-heartedly, but Dan just laughs loudly at her, resting his knees either side of her waist and tickling her sides.

When Dan stops, he collapses on top of her with a thud and feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. She starts to laugh again as he rolls away, playfully asking. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“Shut up. He’s not. Hey, Phil?” He asks as Carrie starts to poke his stomach. He sticks his middle finger up at her and waits for Phil to reply, which takes longer than he expects.

“Where are you?”

“With Carrie? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks, sitting up. Carrie stops poking him, and looks at him sternly.

“Your mum has been trying to call you for ages. She found my number in your room and rang me when you wouldn’t pick up...” Dan feels his face reddening, and his eyes widen.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your brother’s in hospital,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh im very sorry for the delay in this! things are up and running back to normal now (i managed to recover some of my files - enough to keep writing, anyway. this chapter probably isn't as good as usual as it is a little rushed, but i hope you can forgive me!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important: there is an incredibly heavy trigger warning for rape in this chapter. If you don't want to read this for any reason, you can message me at phanology.tumblr.com/fask and I will explain the plot for the chapter for you if you need it <33

Phil puts down the phone with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut. They burn from staying awake so long on the phone to Dan, trying to convince him that everything would be okay. Of course, Phil knows full well that it might not be okay, but he knows what Dan needs, and he’s more than prepared to give it to him at the moment.

If he’s honest, Phil hadn’t actually expected Dan to care all that much. Frankly, Phil doesn’t really care all that much. Apart from the fact that it’s making Dan upset, Phil couldn’t care less, and he doesn’t exactly see why Dan does. Then again, Phil supposes that no matter what the little shit head has done to Dan in the past, he’s still Dan’s brother, and he knows that that at least counts for something.

His head throbs a little as he tries to figure out what happened from the scraps that he managed to get from Dan and his mother. A drunk driver, supposedly, driving a small green car, hit Dan’s brother whilst he was with his friends and they were mucking about on the street. It’s a pretty garden variety hit and run, Phil knows that, but he can’t quite shift the feeling in his stomach that something’s wrong.

Maybe it’s the fact that the short description of the car that Dan gave him is just so familiar he can’t shift it out of his head. He knows that he knows someone with that kind of car – and of course, that means nothing apart from the fact that they happen to own a similar vehicle to someone who ran over a kid this afternoon, but he can’t push it out of his mind.

His phone buzzes again, and he takes a deep breath. He doesn’t mind helping Dan – quite the opposite, in fact – but his Dad is insisting that he goes back to school tomorrow no matter how he’s feeling, and right now he just wants to sleep so that he can try and get at least a little better. Having to walk down those corridors with a head as clouded as it is at the moment would probably only result in him doing something stupid.

He glances down at the text and smiles at it sadly. Instead of replying, he quickly phones the number and presses the slightly warm glass screen to his ear.

“Don’t say you’re sorry for bothering me, you twat,” he chuckles, voice a little hoarse.

“I feel like I’m annoying you,” Dan replies quietly, and Phil wonders whether he’s still in the hospital, or in the car home like he instructed. Dan’s mother offered to take her son home so that he could get some rest, but he doubts Dan took it.

“You’re not. I want to help you in any way I can,”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I’m not an annoying piece of shit,” Dan grumbles, and Phil half-wonders if he wanted Phil to hear it from how quiet it is. Either way, his heart falls a little as the words spill into his ear.

“You’re not, honestly,”

“I am. Alex always told me that I was, and he was always right,”

“Dan, no,” Phil says firmly, sitting himself up. “Don’t even think about believing that. He was wrong. Dying or not, he was wrong. And we don’t know that he won’t be okay yet. He could be perfectly fine,”

“They don’t think he’s going to wake up, Phil. And because of… Well, because of me, they don’t seem to want to provide my family with any actual help. It’s always been like this. The entire family is painted with _my_ tarnish. It’s my fault that he’s not getting the kind of specialist help he needs,” Phil can hear the tremble in Dan’s voice, and he shakes his head quickly even though he knows Dan can’t see.

“No. They’re doctors. It’s their fault for not treating him as they should. More importantly, it’s whoever the hell ran him over’s fault for not looking where they were going,”

“The person in the car was apparently our age, Phil. It wasn’t their fault. They were probably on the phone or something and my brother ran out in front of them. It’s no one’s fault,” Phil can barely believe what he’s hearing, but he tries to focus on just one part of Dan’s almost sobbing.

_The person in the car was apparently our age._

“I know this is going to sound like a strange question, but do you know what the person driving the car looked like?” Dan doesn’t reply for a moment, and Phil bites on his lip anxiously as he waits.

“Blond? Fair skin. Skinny. That’s all his friends know,”

Phil draws a sharp breath. His eyes fix on the wall in front of him, and he thinks that his heart stops for a second.

“Fuck. Okay,”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. Are you coming into school tomorrow?” Phil quickly asks, giving Dan no space to interrupt him and ask more questions.

“Probably not, sorry. You’ll be okay, right? After the other day…”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Just call me if you need me, right? I love you,”

He hangs up without giving Dan any chance to reply. For a moment, he looks at his phone in his hand, transfixed on it. He inspects the small cracks that have appeared over time and use, his mind whirring.

He knows who did it. He _knows_.

-

His footsteps resonate through the almost empty halls as he walks through them slowly, keeping his eyes to the floor.

He grits his teeth. His head still hurts and his throat is sore, but he knows that even if he did have a choice about coming in today he still would have done it anyway. He knows who’s hurt Dan this much, and he knows exactly where they will be. What he doesn’t know is what he’s going to do to them when he finds them.

He remembers punching him just for speaking badly of Dan. For this, Phil doesn’t know what he’s capable. He’s programmed to be kind, to be caring. Phil feels like crap whenever he hurts someone else; the guilt always gets the better of him. But this kid… Part of him just doesn’t know how to feel sorry for him. The awful things he’s done put even Phil’s back up.

Biting his lip, he turns a corner and sees his classroom door in front of him. He’s timed his morning perfectly, so he knows that they will be in there.

He doesn’t allow himself even a second’s hesitation before reaching out and pushing the door open.

Sure enough, they’re there. Him, and his little group, all huddled around a few of the desks and laughing and joking about something Phil doesn’t actually care to hear. He doesn’t want to know what these despicable people find funny, not after years of having to sit and listen to their appalling jokes and opinions because he knew that he didn’t have much choice. No matter his genetic make up, if he didn’t stick with them and appear to conform, then he would have ended up just like Dan.

He clears his throat loudly and takes a step forward. A couple of them hear him and turn their heads for a moment, but get straight back to the conversation without paying him much attention. Anger simmering in the pit of his stomach, he taps the shoulder of one of them, but is ignored again.

“Jacob,” Phil whispers, voice coming out more strained that he intended. The boy stops laughing and turns to face him, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Phil. I was wondering when you’d turn up here,”

“We need to talk. Alone, preferably. I don’t think everyone else needs to hear this,”

“You don’t think they need to know how I _accidentally_ knocked over your boyfriend’s brother? Well, as far as I see it the brat had it coming. Living in a house with an impure? Disgusting,”

“You ran over a fucking kid! And last time I checked, that was pretty illegal,” Jacob scoffs and pushes himself off the desk he’s perched on, giving Phil a wide grin.

“Come on, you going to go to the police? Seriously? Okay then, what happens when I tell them that you are involved with an impure? That you’re a fucking cross-breeder? They won’t give a crap about your boyfriend’s brother, even if they did in the first place. He’s a pure, fine, but he’s too closely associated with the impures for anyone to give a fuck,”

Phil’s fingers curl into fists, and Jacob’s eyes flick down to them. He laughs loudly, the sound obnoxious and piercing. Phil flinches, and takes another step forward.

“You are disgusting. Did you know that? You can stand there all superior and whatever, but at the end of the day you are worse than any impure. And the funny part is you’re such a damn hypocrite. You happily stick your cock down his throat and yet you think that having a romantic relationship with an impure is ‘cross-breeding’? Seriously? Then what the hell do you call what you do?” Phil is seething, and he feels his fingernails digging into his palms.

“I’m just putting him down into his place, Phil. You should learn to do the same. I’m going to save myself the trouble of hitting you, purely because I pity you. One day you’ll see what kind of mistake you’re making associating yourself with these kinds of people,”

Phil smiles with disbelief. He can feel the blood pumping in the tips of his fingers as he turns around for a moment, before turning right back and launching his fist at Jacob again. If a teacher turns up right now, he knows that a second offence within such close proximity to the first will result in at least a suspension, but he doesn’t even care.

His knuckles crack as they meet the already bruised flesh of the boy’s cheek. The blond lets out a high-pitched squeal as he falls backwards into the arms of one of his friends. He stares up at Phil in disbelief, mouth hanging open.

“You touch Dan or his family again, and I swear to God I will kill you,” Phil whispers through gritted teeth.

-

Phil hasn’t spoken to him, and that’s the only reason that he’s coming into school today.

He’s gone over his text limit and he’s left over a dozen voice mails, all to no avail. It’s been almost three days since he last had contact from his friend – boyfriend, whatever, he’s not sure – and he can’t help but shake the feeling that something isn’t quite right. He’s sure that someone would have called him if Phil had been hurt or anything – and even if they wouldn’t, it’d probably have been in the papers that Dan’s been scouring so attentively for any news – so he’s not worried about that, more the fact that Phil might have gotten annoyed by Dan’s tireless crying down the phone.

He wouldn’t blame Phil if that was the case. The black-haired boy has seen Dan’s brother’s treatment of him at the very worst, and Dan knows that Phil will never forgive Alex for that. He knows that Phil didn’t see the few good times they had when they were kids, and he knows that Phil probably doesn’t understand why Dan cares.

Dan himself can’t explain it. He shouldn’t. Even if when they were children things were a little better, it’s been so long since he was able to hold a decent conversation with his brother without being insulted that it can’t be because of that that he cares. Part of him thinks that he probably just cares because his family is small enough as it is without losing someone else. No matter how bad they get, they’re his family, and the one connection to other people that cannot be easily severed.

He stumbles over feet and curses quietly, looking up at whom they belong to. His blood runs cold as soon as he sees the face staring down at him.

“Hi, impure,” Jacob snarls, and Dan winces just at the sound. His eyes travel to the bruise on the blond boy’s face, and he remembers with a shudder the crack that rang out through the room when Phil’s fist collided with the skin.

“Can I go past, please?” Dan asks quietly, eyes flicking to the floor.

“Aw, look at that. Manners. No, you can’t,” Dan makes to move anyway, but stops before he even takes a single step. Jacob isn’t Phil. Dan can’t do what he likes, because that’s not how impures behave. He has to do what he’s told.

“Your boyfriend came to see me the other day. Gave me a few extra days of healing time before this bruise fades. I think I’d like to pay him back for that,”

A hand shoves itself into Dan’s hair and the brunette squeals in shock, instinctively tugging away. The grip just tightens, and he stops struggling, instead letting himself be pulled down the corridor, his feet stumbling behind him to catch up with the face. Around him, he sees people parting like waves, giving them a path to walk through without any trouble at all. He even catches the glimpse of a teacher out of the corner of his eye, and the tears start to well up.

_Don’t cry_ , he tells himself, knowing what’s going on now better than he knows everything else. He knows to stay quiet and do what he’s told, because if he doesn’t it will hurt a lot more, and Jacob’s not exactly going to be gentle with him anyway.

Stupid fucking Phil. Why the hell did he have to go and make the problem even worse? Why did Dan have to go and allow him into his life enough so that he could make the problem even worse? Why did Dan even bother coming into school today to see someone that he knows doesn’t care, because if they did then why the hell aren’t they here right now, helping him?

As he’s thrown into the bathroom, his eyes pass over the corner where he saw Phil standing the first time they properly spoke to each other. The black haired boy’s arms were crossed and his eyes were focussed on the ground. He couldn’t even look at Dan, and Dan to this day doesn’t know what was going through Phil’s head in that moment. Did he pity Dan? Was he just not in the mood? Did their entire relationship stem out of Phil not being bothered to hurt Dan himself?

He’s kicked to the floor, and he looks up. It’s only Jacob in the room this time, but he remembers how everyone stood around him and laughed. He remembers how many times previously they’ve done that. He remembers the first time with the teacher, and how the next day practically the entire school knew, and how ever since then he’s been _dirty_. He remembers the shower he took that evening and how he didn’t move once, not even when his skin started to crinkle and his nose started to run. He remembers how Phil’s smiles and wide blue eyes convinced him that maybe someone saw him for more than his stupid genes, and he remembers how Phil’s words were making him start to think that maybe he wasn’t what they’d convinced him he was all these years.

_“No. That’s not all you’re good for, of course it’s not. You are gorgeous, kind, intelligent, talented. You are wonderful,”_

He feels his zipper being tugged down and he gasps. He chokes on a cry of anguish as he’s picked back up again and shoved against a wall, hands groping all over him. Every touch sends his stomach lurching, making him feel like he’s going to throw up before he just about manages to stop it. He has to wait this out.

_“No human being is better than you, Dan, it doesn't matter what your genetics are.”_

He hears another zipper undo too, and he’s soon being pushed down onto his knees. If this is all that he gets, then he knows it’ll be over soon, and he knows that he can cope with this. This isn’t so bad.

_“You're just as good, no, in fact, you're better than all of them, okay? You're no less than them. You are a wonderful person,"_

A cock is pushed against his lips and he knows what to do. He lets his mouth hang open, and he lets the boy thrust in and out of his mouth quickly as he tugs on Dan’s hair and slaps Dan’s cheeks lightly.

_“I'm not going to hurt you, and I'm not going to say anything to anyone.”_

The boy pulls out and Dan expects his face to be splattered with come any second, but instead he’s pulled back up onto his feet. He lets the tears roll down his face as he realises that this isn’t all, that the worst is about to happen.

_"You know what Dan? You mean something to me,"_

Silent prayers form on his lips as he speaks to anyone that might be listening to him. He doesn’t believe, and he never has, but as he is turned around and his stomach is shoved against the wall, he thinks that now might be a good time to at least try it.

_"See, really good! Much better than me. Much better than anyone I've actually heard play in person, in fact,"_

There’s no lubricant except Dan’s spit, and he half screams when the blond pushes into him, stretching Dan much further than he’s prepared for. There’s no time to adjust and he just cries as he lets Jacob do what he likes, thrusting in and out and burning Dan’s walls with the painful friction as he makes no allowances for the brunette.

_"You don't deserve to be treated like that. I'm sorry, Dan,"_

Dan feels his limbs start to go numb as Jacob’s thrusts lose rhythm. His vision clouds at the edges as his forehead falls against the wall, his ears ringing. The throbbing of his own body and the slaps of his flesh and his abuser’s meeting are in time with each other, and he gives up on trying to hide the screams that are falling from his lips.

_"What's your name? Dan? I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to make sure you're okay,"_

The blond finishes after what to Dan feels like hours, and before he knows what’s happening, he’s empty again, and zips are being done back up. He collapses to the ground in sobs, not bothering to try and retain any dignity he has left. This isn’t the first time that it’s happened at this level, but it’s the first time since Phil, and he thought he was safe. In the back of his mind, he’d let himself believe that Phil was going to shield him and keep him safe form a world that hates him and wants to use him for nothing more than a quick fuck.

He’s alone again. There’s no Phil this time to offer to help him up, and in the back of his mind he’s screaming at himself for not accepting the help when it was there. Oh how he could use a hand now, but Phil’s ignoring him and he’s alone in a school toilet, and he can’t even move.

Tears fall down his face as he sobs quietly. He feels heavy with dirt, so he pulls himself across the floor with his arms and then up onto his feet using the edge of the sink. He cries out in pain, but he doesn’t expect anyone to come to his rescue. He splashes water on his face and stares at his mirror in the reflection, resisting the urge to throw up everywhere.

It has to be ten minutes of standing there, staring into the sink as he tries to scrub his hands clean, before he feels his phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulls it out and accepts the call, not looking at the caller ID before he does.

“Dan? I’m sorry I didn’t call, I left my phone at school by accident but was too sick to come back in-”

“Phil?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise it doesnt get any worse this is as bad as it gets. there's a couple of ups and downs left but nothing as bad as this ahh im sorry


	18. Chapter 18

Dan croaks out, and Phil’s rambling stops immediately.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen to Alex?”

“No. But I… I need you. Please. I know that I’m not worth it but I can’t… I don’t think I can get home on my own, and there isn’t anyone else,” Dan can hear how pathetic his voice sounds, but he doesn’t think that times like these are the best to be worrying about the few scraps of dignity that he has left.

“I’m in the bathroom on the corridor by the science labs. I’m sorry,” Dan hears Phil’s breath catch and stop for a moment, and his eyes unintentionally fall shut.

“I’m coming sweetheart. Don’t hang up,” Phil says, almost in a whisper, and Dan falls back down to the crowd. He rests his back against the sinks and lets his head drop to his knees, hiding the tears as the roll down his cheeks. He keeps the phone loosely pressed to his ear as he cries, and he knows that Phil can probably hear his muffled sobs.

“Dan? I’m literally around the corner, it’s going to be okay,” Phil reassures, and Dan bites back the scoff. It’s not okay. It’s never going to be okay.

The call ends the second Dan hears the door being pushed open, and he just lets the device drop from his hand, ignoring the clatter as it hits the floor. He doesn’t look up (he doesn’t need to know that it’s Phil), and doesn’t stop crying as he feels someone sit beside him.

“Dan?” A soft voice asks, and Dan’s trembling fingers reach out somewhat blindly for Phil’s face. He locks his fingers in Phil’s hair and slowly looks up, lips trembling.

“Can we just go home? Please,”

Phil nods hastily and looks up and down at Dan, biting his lip. He notes that Dan’s zipper is still undone, but doesn’t make any move to change that. He just gestures towards it and lets Dan do it himself, watching as the boy struggles with his jeans alone. Dan gasps with every movement of his legs, but Phil doesn’t dare help him, doesn’t dare touch him right now. Dan was opening up to him, but he knows that this is not the best time to test his boundaries.

Once Dan’s done, Phil helps pull the brunette to his feet and drapes his arm around Phil’s neck. Dan leans his weight on the top of Phil’s shoulders as he struggles to stand up. Phil gives him the time he needs to balance himself before he starts to half-drag Dan out of the room, stopping once to pick up Dan’s phone.

He reaches for his own and quickly dials a number, which makes Dan squeak in protest.

“I’m just calling my Dad. I won’t tell him what happened, but I can’t carry you all the way back to my house on my own, and I don’t have a car,” Phil mumbles by way of explanation as Dan starts to put more weight on his own feet and starts limping alongside Phil.

“You can just get him to drop me off at my place, I’ll be fine, I just couldn’t…”

“Dan, what are you even thinking? I’m not going to leave you alone after this, bloody hell. Why would I do that?”

“Why do you keep associating yourself with me? Why do you keep insisting that I’m worth it? Because let me tell you, if you don’t stop, this is all you’re getting yourself into. And I’m not allowed to tell pures to do things, because that’s not my place, and it never will be, but I’m making an exception with this because I am not standing by and watching you get hurt in the same way that I’ve been hurt,” Dan’s words are barely audible, but Phil hears the force of every one of them.

He doesn’t reply, and instead just holds his phone to his ear and tells his Dad something about Dan being beaten up at school and them needing a ride home. Dan doesn’t even listen properly, instead just letting himself zone out as Phil takes him outside to the car park.

“You’re wrong,” Phil murmurs as he props Dan up against a wall, “I love you, but you’re wrong. I won’t leave you alone. I’m not standing by and watching as they destroy you,”

“You didn’t find it so hard the first time you saw it, did you?” Dan almost spits.

Phil just stands there, staring at Dan with his mouth half-open. His heartbeat is loud in his ears as he takes a step towards Dan and grabs the front of the brunette’s shirt, making Dan flinch.

“I couldn’t have done anything,” he whispers, closing his eyes and feeling a tear roll down his face.

“If you really mean all those things you’ve said to me, you could have tried,” Dan mumbles, and Phil breaks their eye contact.

“You just told me that I couldn’t have done. You change your mind every five seconds, Dan. If it helps push me away, you don’t want me to help you, but if it doesn’t, you want me to help you. Seems to me like you just want to push me away,” Phil says evenly, staring at the pavement beneath his feet.

He lets go of Dan’s shirt when he hears a car pulling in behind him, and focuses on getting Dan to the car. Phil’s Dad half-runs to Dan’s side, helping him without asking a single question. Dan shudders at the unfamiliar touch, but he doesn’t make any move to get out of the grip. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to.

Once he’s in the back seat, he turns his gaze to outside the window and doesn’t turn to look at Phil a single time. He listens attentively to their conversation, catching the _he’ll be fine Dad_ and _does he need to go to the hospital?_ and _there’d be no point even if he did need it **.**_ He remembers Phil picking up his phone and almost opens his mouth to ask for it back, but he’s not sure what his voice would sound like if he did and the last thing he wants is to make an absolute fool of himself.

It takes five minutes, maximum, to get to Phil’s house, and the journey is over far too soon. It’s far too soon that he has to be pulled out of the car by Phil – alone, this time – and he can feel the stiffness in the way that Phil holds him.

This isn’t what he wanted. Not really, anyway. No matter how much he has been pushing Phil away – and he can’t deny it, because that’s exactly what he’s been doing, and half the time it’s been completely consciously – he doesn’t actually want Phil to leave. It’s more that he’s scared of what will happen if Phil stays. Dan knows how toxic he is, and he knows how fucked up he is. Today hasn’t helped by any stretch of the imagination, and the last thing he wants is to allow Phil to get caught up in all of this.

Phil somehow manoeuvres Dan up the stairs and into his room, half-throwing Dan down on the bed. Dan lands with a quiet noise as the air is pushed out of his lungs, and he knows that if it weren’t for the tension in the air, it’s likely that Phil would have laughed at it with that all too endearing laugh. His tongue would poke out between his teeth, and his eyes would crinkle up in the signature Phil way that Dan subconsciously fell for.

“Are you bleeding anywhere?” Phil asks quietly, and Dan swallows hard.

“I don’t think so. Look, Phil-”

“I think I’m going to have to get you to strip just so I can check. Just to your boxers, if you don’t mind,” Phil says, interrupting Dan before he gets a chance to talk. Dan watches somewhat helplessly as Phil busies himself, leaving the room for about half a minute and bringing back a slightly damp towel.

Without any protest, Dan quietly takes off his t-shirt. Phil’s eyes find the skin, and Dan feels his stomach churn with self-consciousness. His whole torso is pretty much covered in bruises, some old, some new, and he isn’t exactly the most chiselled guy anyway. He pinches at the slight pudginess of his stomach for a moment before moving to undo his jeans, pulling them off with even more effort than usual. His legs are even worse, he thinks, what with his large thighs, which have stretch marks on the inside from where he used to be even fatter, and his too broad calves.

“I’m sorry,” Dan mutters without a second thought, glancing up to see a confused look on Phil’s face.

“For what? For what you said earlier?”

“No, although I’m sorry for that too. But mostly for the way I look, it’s not like I have an attractive body or anything,” the corners of Phil’s lips prick up into a disbelieving smile, and he moves forward to carefully inspect Dan for any sign of cuts.

“You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” Phil asks, voice quiet so that only the two of them would be able to hear it if anyone else happened to be in the room.

“Please don’t lie for my benefit, Phil,”

“I’m not fucking lying. Please stop trying to belittle yourself, it breaks my damn heart,” Phil says, voice cracking with his words.

Once he’s satisfied that Dan isn’t too badly injured (well, not physically in the least, and he supposes that he hasn’t seen all of Dan, and he doesn’t really want to right now), he hands over some of Phil’s pyjamas and gestures to the other end of the bed.

“Get some sleep. I know it’s early, but you look exhausted. Once you’re feeling a little better, we can talk about our argument and sort it out, now is not the best time. We can sort this out, Dan. I promise you,”

“No matter what I say to you, Phil – and I probably will say an awful lot of shit, because I can be a right dick – I hope you know that you’re amazing, okay?” Dan croaks, slipping on the pyjamas and crawling to the pillows.

-

“Dad, we can do it. I just need your help. He can’t stay here, he’s going to get killed before he’s twenty at this rate, and that almost seems like the best option out of everything else,” Phil’s voice is hushed, but it’s enough to stir Dan from his sleep.

He doesn’t open his eyes, and makes sure that his breathing stays steady as he hears Phil’s father’s heavy sigh.

“It’s illegal, Phil. Incredibly illegal. I told you to not to let his impure status stop you from being with him, not to get yourself locked up on his behalf,”

“Isn’t that half of what love is? Making sacrifices?”

“You haven’t got the first clue what love is, Phil. You’re just a kid. If this is going to end with you getting hurt – and it will – then I don’t want you having anything to do with him,”

Dan catches a breath in his throat and he thinks that Phil must have heard, because for a moment the whispers stop, and he practically feels eyes on him.

“Look at him,” Phil begins, and Dan’s stomach turns at sound of the pity in Phil’s voice, “He’s vulnerable here. An open target. And he’s no older than me, Dad. If this were me, wouldn’t you want me out of this situation? Or if you were in my position, and it was Mum being hurt like this, wouldn’t you do anything to get her out of this?”

“I know that I love your mother. You’re a teenager. Tomorrow you could wake up and realise that you don’t actually love him, that it’s all hormones. You’re growing up, and you will think that you’re in love with a thousand people before you find the one that you actually spend your life with, and that’s okay, and I will be with you all the way through that, but risking your whole life to forge a purity stamp for him so that you can get him out of the country is insane. I’m not saying that I agree with impure oppression – I don’t, by any stretch of the imagination – but you have to think of yourself, Phil,”

Dan swallows, squeezing his eyes tighter as he feels tears pricking them. The last thing he needs right now is to cry, but the reality of Phil’s Dad’s words is so striking that he can hardly stop himself.

“Get out of my room, Dad. I’d like to talk to Dan alone when he wakes up, please,”

Dan hears the door shut, and the second it does something is thrown against one of the walls. He flinches, and Phil must notice, because he hears a quiet voice addressing him.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“S’okay,” Dan replies, sitting up and rubbing his damp eyes.

“Dan, I had an idea. We could leave, we could get out of the country. We don’t even have to wait until the end of exams, it’s unlikely anyone would care if we just disappeared,”

“Phil-”

“I’m not just saying it, I really want to do this. I love you and I know that you love me and-”

“Phil! Let me speak,” Dan interrupts forcefully, and Phil stops mid-sentence. Dan takes a breath before continuing, trying to keep his breath as even as possible. “Look, Phil. I do love you. But you’re going way too fast. This isn’t the way to go. We need to keep our hopes up and our heads down. We need to let things continue, but hope for change, because this isn’t going to help anyone. We’ll just get arrested. But I know you’re pretty determined to continue, so I’m going to put a permanent stop to it. Whatever we have Phil – and I’m not sure what this is – it’s over. Thank you for helping me, thank you for being there. But I’m not letting you destroy your life for me. That’s not what love is,”

The colour quickly retracts from Phil’s face, leaving him looking even paler than he usually does. He reaches for his clothes and starts to change, wary of Phil’s eyes on him, but not really caring anymore. He probably won’t see Phil again, and if he does it’ll probably be in a situation where Phil’s fist ends up in his face. He’s disobeyed a pure, and he knows he’ll suffer for it – but at least it won’t be Phil suffering.

“You think I don’t love you?” Phil asks as Dan limps to the bedroom door, resting his hand on the handle. He sighs.

“I think you don’t know how to love me. Sorry, Phil,”

He shuts the door behind him as quietly as possible, and draws a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if this is reassuring in any way there's smut in chapter 20 so this angst doesnt last much longer dw


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is early today because i wont be around later since im going to mcbusted tonight ayy

It feels like he’s in a bubble, and part of him wants it to stay that way.

Three days. It’s been three days, and he hasn’t heard or seen Dan. He keeps hovering his finger over that button on his phone, but he can never bring himself to dial Dan’s number. Then his finger goes to Carrie’s number, which Dan put into his phone, but he just shakes his head at himself and blinks away the stray tears.

He hasn’t been at school. Not that he expected him to be, but he wishes that he were. At least then Phil would be able to look at him, even if he couldn’t say a word. At least then he wouldn’t have to listen to the taunts and insults thrown around about Dan without a care by his ‘friends’.

He thinks that his bubble is running out of air. It’s stifling, strangling, and he’s not sure how much longer he can take it. Whilst he’s in the bubble, he’s safe from what everyone else is screaming in his face, telling him about how they were right all along and how he _never_ should have gotten anywhere near Dan. But he’s not safe from his own thoughts, his own torturous thoughts.

_I don’t think you know how to love me._

Wiping his nose with a sniff, he looks down at the test in front of him with desperation. This should be easy – it’s maths, for god’s sakes – but he just can’t make the numbers and letters fit together in his head. He stares at the characters in front of him, trying to rearrange them into the simplest formation, but he can’t even figure out where to start.

The bell goes to signal the end of the lesson and he sighs, sitting back in the chair and putting his pen down. He’s barely answered half of it, and what he has done isn’t good enough. He’s going to fail, and the thought makes him feel a little sick.

“Ugh, that was a nightmare, wasn’t it Lester?” A sneering voice starts, and he curls his hand up into a fist. The knuckles crack, but it doesn’t seem to deter the boy looming over him.

Phil doesn’t look up to face him. He doesn’t think he can stomach it, not when he knows exactly what the guy did to Dan, not when he knows that this guy is the reason Dan is no where to be found right now. Phil’s thought about it a thousand times, has run the conversation over and over again in his head constantly since Dan left, and he can’t help but come to the conclusion that Dan was overreacting because of the shit that this guy did to him.

“It was alright,” Phil lies, putting his pen back in his pencil case and throwing it into his bag.

“It was bloody awful. Anyway, where’s that impure of yours?” The tone of Jacob’s voice makes Phil’s face turn pale.

He throws his bag over his shoulder and stands up. Without hesitation, he pushes past the group of idiots in front of him and runs straight to the bathroom.

The stall is barely open before he throws up, retching what little there is in his stomach into the toilet boil. His cheeks are damp with the tears running down them as he runs his hands through his hair, finally letting it out.

He kicks out wildly at the wall. He doesn’t even know why he does it, but the pain makes him cry out in anguish.

“I’m so sorry, Dan,” he mumbles over his splutters, letting his head fall back with a thud against the wall of the stall.

He knows that anyone could find him right now. He’s slumped in a toile5 cubicle, back pressed up against one side and feet sprawled in front of him, with tears streaming down his face and his lunch in the toilet next to him. Yet he just can’t bring himself to care, not when Dan’s out there alone, possibly hurting himself or worse, without anyone coming to help him.

It’s not like the police would care. Dan’s parents probably haven’t even noticed that their eldest son is missing. The only two people that have a hope of finding Dan are Phil and Carrie, and Dan’s certainly not going to want to see Phil right now. If Carrie knows, Phil is pretty certain that she won’t want anything to do with Phil anyway.

He hasn’t got any chance of finding Dan. He just needs to know if he’s okay – he’s not expecting miracles, he knows that Dan isn’t going to take him back, but he can’t bare the thought of Dan being hurt and alone somewhere, which is all too likely around here.

He scrambles for his bag and pulls his phone out of it, scrolling through his contacts quickly. This is ridiculous, he knows that. He needs to know if Dan’s okay, he can’t do this anymore.

Pressing the phone to his ear, he starts to chew on his bottom lip. The silence of the bathroom is ringing through his head, the dialling tone piercing the air around him harshly.

“Hello?” A female voice chirps, and Phil draws in a breath to talk, but it gets caught in his throat. “Is there anyone there?”

“Uhm, sorry. Is this Carrie?”

“Yes, who’s this?” Carrie says, slightly hesitantly, and Phil tries to keep his voice steady.

“Hi, sorry, I know I’m probably interrupting something, but this is Phil-”

“As in Dan’s Phil?” She asks, and Phil prepares himself for her to hang up, or for the torrent of abuse that he half-expects to come from her. Instead, he’s met with only silence, and he decides that he needs to break it.

“Yeah. I was just wondering if you knew where Dan was?” He asks. At the same time, he pulls a chunk of skin off his bottom lip and hisses.

He presses a finger to the wound and pulls it away to see blood. Cursing under his breath, he hears Carrie shuffling around on the other end of the line, and what sounds like someone shutting a door.

“No, but why? Did something happen? How long has it been since you saw him?” She asks, voice more hushed than before.

“Three days. He… We kinda had a fight because… I think it’s better for him to tell you why we had a fight, but we did, and he hasn’t been at school and he hasn’t called me,”

“Shit,” she mutters, and Phil thinks that if his chest gets any tighter he’s going to collapse. Even Carrie doesn’t know where he is, and that’s bloody _terrifying_.

“Okay, there’s one place I can think of where he might be, but if he’s not there then we’re screwed,”

“Just tell me where, and I’ll find him,”

-

It's not that far to walk. It's a small, modest park, on the outskirts of the town. No one really goes there, and especially not down by the lake in the middle of it. Carrie told him that it’s purely because of how dangerous it is, and Phil can tell that she was right, but he can also tell that it's a beautiful spot, and he’s only been there for a few seconds when he realises what Dan likes so much about it.

It’s secluded, tucked away from everything else. Phil gets the impression that this is the only place that Dan feels at home, since it’s somewhere no one else will see him.

He catches sight of the figure crouching down by the lake, and his heart thrums a little too quickly as he almost skids down the hill towards the water. He stops a few meters away from Dan, and just stares at the back of his friend.

The brunette’s hair is all ruffled up, obviously not having had a comb taken to it for a few days, and the shirt that he’s wearing is just plain black. Phil notes the fact that he’s not wearing the bracelet that marks him out as an impure and takes a sharp breath.

“Dan?” Phil calls out softly.

Immediately, Dan’s back straightens out a little, but he doesn’t turn around to face the black-haired boy. Instead, he audibly lets out a breath.

“I didn’t think it’d be you that finally came looking for me. I was expecting Carrie,” he replies quietly, voice sounding almost a little bitter.

Daring to take a few steps forward, Phil shakes his head at Dan’s back. “She didn’t know you were missing, she said that sometimes you just like to be alone for a few days. She didn’t know we’d had a fight,”

“We didn’t exactly fight,” Dan says evenly.

Phil sits down next to him, crossing his legs beneath him. He looks across at Dan, who’s sat with his knees hugging his chest, and gasps when he sees the bruise under his cheek.

“Dan, what happened?” Reaching out to touch the small mark, Phil barely registers it when Dan slaps his hand away.

“It doesn’t matter. You’ve found me now, I’m okay. Will you please leave?” Dan asks sharply.

Phil quickly retracts his hand, tucking it underneath himself. He doesn’t move to get up though, just shakes his head slowly.

“No. Not until we’ve talked about this. I’m not going to stand here and claim to understand what you’ve gone through Dan, because I don’t, but I do know that in the aftermath of something like that is not the best time to make decisions like this,”

“You don’t have any clue what you’re saying, Phil. This has nothing to do with… what happened. This has everything to do with the fact that kindness is so engraved in your nature that it’s at the point where you can’t be sensible with your affection. You don’t see the downsides to this because you’re so preoccupied with trying to keep me safe. The safest place for me, though Phil, is by your side, not in some other country,” Dan says, his voice wobbling a little at the end.

Phil watches as the brunette lowers his eyes to the ground, and he doesn’t say anything in response. Instead, he just looks at Dan, drinking in all the features that he’s noticed a thousand times before, as well as the ones that he’s somehow overlooked. There’s a small patch of freckles on the underside of Dan’s jaw that he’s never realised was there before, and it takes all of his willpower not to lean forward and kiss them.

Dan looks small today, and Phil can see it. The clothes that he’s wearing are slightly too big for him, and his shoulders are hunched forward and his hands are forcing his knees into his chest. He looks much smaller than Phil has ever seen him, and every instinct in Phil wants to just hug him, but Dan seemed to freak out when he even gestured to touch him, and he doesn’t want to know what his reaction would be to an actual touch.

“The way you stare at me is rather odd sometimes, Phil,” Dan chuckles, turning around to face Phil for the first time.

“It’s because you’re beautiful, and I love you. And I see your face in a lot of things, but it’s best when I see it like this,” Phil whispers.

A blush spreads over Dan’s cheeks and Phil giggles at him. Dan just blushes even harder, frowning at Phil.

“You’re such a bloody sap,” Dan says disbelievingly, shaking his head and turning back to the water.

“I am. I’m sorry for that. You’re right, I am over the top with my feelings, and I get attached too easily. I’m way too attached to you, for example. I didn’t want to see you get hurt, and I panicked and suggested something stupid that scared you away. It was me being an idiot and not even thinking about you,”

Dan hums quietly in agreement, and Phil looks down at his fingers. They’re tapping something out on his leg – probably some kind of song on the piano, Phil thinks – and Phil smiles at them. He’s still staring at them when Dan starts to shift his legs, pulling himself over towards Phil.

“Thank you for apologising. I was starting to think that I’d finally pushed you away for good. I was hiding because I didn’t think I could actually face that reality, no matter how much I logically knew it was probably for the best,”

“Fuck logic,” Phil replies without hesitation, looking straight at Dan in the eye.

Dan breaks out into laughter, and Phil joins in, giggles which are like music to Dan’s ears bubbling from Phil’s lips. Dan’s head falls onto Phil’s lap, and Phil’s fingers latch onto strands of Dan’s hair.

“I’m so fucking sorry. I missed you so much,” Dan says between more subdued laughs as he turns around in Phil’s lap, looking straight up into Phil’s eyes.

Phil smiles down at him softly, playing with the soft, untidy mess of locks that is Dan’s hair. He curls some around his finger as he leans down to press a small kiss to Dan’s lips, not lingering for much longer than a couple of seconds.

One of Dan’s hands finds its way into the back of Phil’s hair once Phil’s pulled away and forces him straight back down again, locking their lips more firmly this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told you it got better


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is slightly late omg i fell asleep help

It started raining on the way home.

It’s so cliché, and Dan can feel himself internally cringing about how they’re turning into your average Hollywood love story, but at the same time it all feels incredibly perfect. They half-run through Phil’s doorway, with Phil whispering hushed reassurances that his parents aren’t home and that they can do whatever they like.

They’re both drenched, and Dan turns to Phil with a wide smile, grinning at the way that Phil’s usually well-straightened fringe is now stuck to his forehead and is curling just a little at the edges, and the way that his pale skin is slightly flushed from running half way home to try and get out of the rain.

Their hands are still linked, and Phil pulls him upstairs. Phil’s stomach almost hurts from laughing so much, but it doesn’t mean that he’s going to stop any time soon.

Still, his priority right now is to make sure that neither of them catches hypothermia from wet clothes. He tugs Dan into his bedroom and immediately reaches round Dan’s waist to claw at the bottom of the damp shirt that’s sat on the small of Dan’s back.

Dan throws his head back with laughter as his hands find Phil’s to help them. Together, they manage to get the shirt off, and Phil throws it to a corner of the room.

“You can borrow some of mine,” Phil says quietly, and Dan shakes his head, reaching out to grab at Phil’s shirt.

He starts to tug that shirt off too, and Phil lets him struggle, laughing at how his slender fingers struggle with the fabric. If he didn’t know better, he would have said that Dan was drunk from his lack of coordination, but the way that those fingers are also trembling slightly tells him that his fumbling probably has more to do with nerves than anything else.

The shirt is discarded along with Dan’s, and Phil reaches around Dan’s neck and pushes his fingers into the back of Dan’s hair. Dan’s arms find themselves resting on Phil’s shoulders, and he lets his fingers massage small circles into the top of Phil’s back.

“We’re going to catch a death of cold if we stay in these jeans,” Phil whispers, words ghosting against Dan’s lips.

He feels Dan shrug. Pressing his forehead to the brunette’s, Phil shakes his head at Dan’s defiance and opens his mouth to protest, but Dan interrupts him.

“I think that they’re going to come off either way,” Dan says, smiling widely, and Phil can’t take his tone of voice seriously. He starts to laugh, head falling into the crook of Dan’s shoulder.

“You’re such a dork and I love you so much,” he whispers against Dan’s skin, looking up again once he’s composed himself a little.

“I know,” Dan replies.

“Twat. You’re meant to say that you love me back,” Phil says with a small pinch to the back of Dan’s neck, making the brunette squeak.

“I don’t need to say it back. I’m going to show you instead,” Dan’s voice is slightly more serious now, and Phil feels the wide smile on his own face fall into a softer one.

“Hm? And how are you going to do that?”

Dan ducks forward and locks his and Phil’s lips together, wrapping his arms tighter around Phil’s neck to pull him closer.

Phil moans a little in appreciation more than anything else as Dan’s tongue swipes across his lips. He can’t help but hesitate for a moment, as he doesn’t want to push anything and he doesn’t want Dan to feel pressured into doing anything he’s uncomfortable with doing. Still, he grants Dan access, and he can feel Dan smiling against his lips when he does.

With his tongue exploring the depths of Phil’s mouth, Dan tugs on Phil’s hair gently. He runs the tip of his tongue across the top of Phil’s mouth, focussing on the ridges and the warmth and the taste. Everywhere the pads of his fingers touch Phil’s skin, he can feel sparks crackling between them, setting the air alight around them. Everything is theirs, and everything is perfect. It’s like they’re in a bubble protecting them from the world, and Dan doesn’t want to leave.

Slowly, he trails his hands down Phil’s chest, stopping for just a moment to run his fingers along Phil’s chest hair, until he gets to the top of Phil’s jeans. He can feel Phil’s heart thudding against his own chest as he pushes Phil backwards towards the bed. Phil moves one of his hands and wedges it between their bodies so that he can pull away gently.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Don’t rush anything for my benefit, I-”

“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to. I’ll tell you if I want to stop, I promise,”

“We should have a stop word, in case you get too uncomfortable,” Phil pants, and Dan tilts his head, pondering.

“How about undertow? I mean, it’s such a weird word I’m not going to accidentally say it,”

Phil nods and presses their lips together again. This time, he pushes his tongue playfully back against Dan’s a little, and that makes a low sound fall from Dan’s mouth. The vibrations of it send Phil’s head reeling, and he lets Dan push him back onto his bed, falling onto it with a quiet thump.

They break apart for a moment so that Phil can climb backwards on the bed, but Dan doesn’t restart the kiss. Instead, he starts to fumble with the button of Phil’s jeans. The ridges of the button press into his fingers harshly as he struggles, hands trembling, but a pair of hands close themselves around Dan’s to stop him.

“Let me help,” Dan nods and moves his hands, letting Phil do the button instead. Once that’s done, Dan helps tug the jeans down the black-haired boy’s legs, revealing expanses of pale skin that Dan’s never really seen before.

After a bit of manoeuvring, the jeans come off and Dan throws them away. He just sits there for a moment, staring at Phil and searching for little things that he’s never had the privilege to notice before.  He sees a small mole just above where Phil’s boxers start, and he leans forward to kiss it.

Phil involuntarily bucks his hips up into Dan, which makes the brunette giggle. He moves a hand back up towards Phil and is met with Phil’s fingers.

They latch their hands together and rest them on Phil’s chest as Dan continues peppering kisses along Phil’s hips. He trails up the little line of hair that goes to Phil’s belly button, and Phil giggles a little. Dan can feel the way Phil’s stomach rises and falls erratically with his laughs, and it starts to make him laugh too.

Eventually, he pulls himself back up and kisses the giggles away from Phil. He presses his crotch against Phil’s, pressing down to try and give Phil a bit of friction and wipe the smirk away from his face.

“Stop laughing, you’re killing the mood,”

“Sorry. I’m nervous,”

“Wait, have you never?” Dan asks quietly, stopping his movements. Phil bites his bottom lip and looks away from Dan’s face.

Dan sits up and straddles Phil’s hips, his jeans just about managing the stretch.

“I didn’t want you to think I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing. I want to be good enough to make you feel good,”

Dan leans forward and kisses Phil again, a little slowly this time.

“It’s okay,” Dan’s lips leave Phil’s and they pepper Phil’s cheeks gently.

“Dan… I’ve never done it before, but if you want you can, y’know, top, if it makes you feel more comfortable,” Dan doesn’t think he’s ever seen Phil so hesitant before, and he doesn’t really want to say no, but his heart falls a little just thinking about it.

Phil must notice Dan’s reluctance, because he moves his hands to Dan’s hips and draws circles in them soothingly, waiting for Dan to say something before he does anything else.

“It sounds stupid, but I don’t think I do want to. I want you have you, Phil. All of you. And I don’t think… I don’t think I want that control, either. I’m worried that I’d hurt you like I’ve been hurt, and besides, I don’t really have the confidence…”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, alright? But that’s totally fine, we will do whatever is best for you. I think I’m probably a more natural top, anyway,” Phil’s last statement ends with a giggle, and Dan rolls his eyes.

For a moment, he gets up off Phil and tugs off his own jeans, the process going much faster than it did when he was taking Phil’s off. Once he’s done, he lies back down and pulls Phil on top of him, desperate for Phil to take some kind of control.

Phil seems to recognise it, and he presses his hips down hard. They’re clothed now only by one thin layer, and he can feel Dan’s dick through it, warm and pulsing against his own skin. He starts to work away at Dan’s neck, pressing kisses here and there that start off light and almost innocent, but as their hips grind harder, start to become more like bites than kisses. He digs his teeth into Dan’s skin, not hard enough to pierce but enough to leave a mark, and his stomach swoops low when the action gets the loudest noise out of Dan’s mouth yet.

Dan’s heart is thudding in his chest as Phil moves on top of him, pressing their cocks together to get the best friction. His hands are shaking, searching for something to hold on to as he tips his head back more and more, giving Phil all the access to it that he needs. His fingernails find the skin of Phil’s back and he digs them into the flesh, probably leaving little crescent shaped marks. He can’t feel guilty, though, when Phil’s moaning into his neck obscenely. Dan mirrors the sound and scratches Phil’s back more, which just makes Phil bite harder, and it doesn’t take long for the pair of them to become writing messes.

“Phil, stop,” Dan mumbles as he feels himself climbing towards his high far too soon. Phil stops immediately, looking up at Dan with worry written all over his face. He looks terrified that he’s done something wrong, so Dan leans up to kiss him before he continues, “I’m fine, I was just going to come if you didn’t stop doing that to my neck. I think you’ve found one of my sensitive spots,”

“Okay. What do you want me to do now, then?”

“Well, do you have any lube?” Phil’s face turns red beneath Dan’s fingers, the warmth spreading through Dan’s fingertips. “I’ll take that as a no. It’s okay, uhm… Vaseline?”

Phil feels incredibly stupid being the one that’s having to be told what to do by Dan – after all, he wants to be able to show Dan how much he loves him, he wants to be able to take care of Dan, but he can’t if he doesn’t know what he’s doing. It doesn’t seem that Dan minds too much, but Phil doesn’t think he wants to know how Dan actually knows what he’s doing so well, because he doubts that it came out of any kind of positive experience.

He doesn’t say anything about it as he reaches for the small tin of Vaseline on his bedside table. Once it’s in his hands, he looks down at Dan, and the sight takes his breath away.

The brunette is lying on his back with his hair spread out beneath him, turning into a mass of curls from a combination of sweat and the rain from earlier. His lightly tanned skin is gleaming, and his face looks so blissed out it’s almost cute.

He smiles as he goes to remove Dan’s final piece of clothing, but thinks the better of it and removes his own underwear first. As Phil’s removing Dan’s, he’s acutely aware of Dan’s eyes scanning him, and he knows that if it were anyone else, he’d probably feel self-conscious about it.

“Okay. I know you’re probably still sensitive, so you have to tell me if anything hurts, or if you need me to stop at any point, alright? I will be as careful as I can,”

Phil pulls Dan towards him and hooks the brunette’s legs over his shoulders so he has a better view. The amount of trust that Dan must have in him for him to be able to see Dan like this, legs spread open and entrance clenching in anticipation, makes Phil’s heart swell with affection.

He takes a hefty amount of Vaseline onto his fingers and moves them towards Dan. They’re shaking a little as Phil traces Dan’s rim, circling it to try and relax Dan a little. He can see the beads of sweat on Dan’s forehead, and even if they were just down to their previous activities, the way that Dan’s lips are pursed tell him all he needs to know anyway.

“Okay, I’m going to start now,” Phil informs, and Dan nods.

He pushes one finger in, watching as Dan winces at the intrusion. He stops, letting Dan adjust and waiting for a signal to go on.

Dan gives it, and Phil immediately starts to pull out and push back in again. Dan swallows hard as he closes his eyes and looks away, trying to distract himself a little from the discomfort of Phil’s finger. He realises it’s a mistake the second he closes his eyes, and he yelps, forcing them back open and staring at Phil, who’s stopped his movements.

“Dan? Do you need me to stop?”

“No, sorry. I just… Bad memories. It’s okay. I know it’s you. I trust you,” Phil nods, and pushes back in carefully, the Vaseline starting to do its work a little better. Dan watches, keeping his eyes firmly on Phil to help reassure himself that this isn’t his old teacher, or that one ‘boyfriend’, or Jacob. This is Phil. Phil won’t hurt him.

The burn starts to subside and Dan begins to relax, starting to feel more of the pleasure than the pain. Phil’s finger just grazes his spot, and the sound that falls from his mouth is something between a gasp and a moan. It makes Phil smile and pull out his finger, and Dan is about to complain when Phil enters again, this time with a second finger.

It’s easier than before, but it still takes him about half a minute to adjust to the burn. Phil moves a little faster this time, reaching up to caress Dan’s balls lightly, pulling the skin slightly. Dan kicks out his legs with pleasure, toes curling, all of his previous pained expression disappearing.

“I’m going to add a third now, and then we’ll be ready, okay?”

“Stop asking me and get on with it,” Dan mumbles, but he doesn’t really mean it. The fact that Phil is taking so much care over him is making the whole experience much more heightened. Every sense in his body is screaming, and it only gets better when Phil’s fingers probably hit his prostate.

“Fuck! Again, please,” Dan cries out, lifting his hips off the bed. He’s never felt pleasure like this before, has never been considered during any kind of sexual activity, and he can’t quite believe how good it actually is.

Phil pulls out, leaving Dan feeling so empty. He whimpers in protest and watches as Phil fights off a small grin at the reaction he got, but he doesn’t have long to complain before Phil’s face is hovering over his again, leaning down for a small kiss.

“How do you want to do this?” Phil asks, and Dan shrugs, locking their eyes.

“Just like we are now. I want to look at you. But, Phil,”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Do you, uhm, have any condoms? I might not be clean, I-” Phil interrupts Dan with another kiss, and then pulls away and leaves the room without a word.

He comes back about a minute later with a grimace on his face and a small blue packet in his hand. Carefully, he rips it open with his teeth and rolls the condom onto himself, before leaning forward again to kiss Dan.

“No, but apparently my parents do. God, I’m really trying not to kill the mood right now with that image,” Phil groans, and Dan giggles.

“Amazing, Phil. Truly amazing,” Phil lightly slaps Dan’s stomach playfully, shaking his head at the younger boy.

Carefully, Phil spoons some more Vaseline onto his fingers and starts to prepare himself, covering his dick in the substance. He wipes the excess onto the bed and puts Dan’s legs over his shoulders again. They cross at Phil’s neck and Dan almost pulls him forward, giving Phil a sense of _hurry the fuck up_.

Lining himself up, Phil whimpers at the feeling of Dan’s tight rim against the head of his cock. He reaches up to stroke Dan’s leaking member once, then twice, before Dan grabs his wrist.

“Stop. If you don’t, I’m going to come, and that won’t be fair on you,” Dan grumbles, voice hoarse.

Phil does as he’s told, retracting his head and taking a deep breath. Without any further warning, he pushes himself in, making Dan gasp.

He half expects the brunette to tell him to stop, but instead Dan pushes himself further onto Phil, hands reaching up to grab Phil. Phil’s chest falls onto Dan’s as he pushes all the way into Dan, the tightness and heat of Dan making his head start to swim. It feels so overwhelming that he barely registers Dan locking their hands together above his head, giving Phil leverage to push down as he moves. Dan’s legs keep Phil firmly in place, not letting him move yet, and Phil presses their lips together.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Phil grunts, unable to keep up the kiss and instead letting is head fall into Dan’s neck.

“Move, Phil, please,” Dan begs, and Phil is all too happy to oblige. He pulls out slowly and practically slams back in, shoving Dan up the creaking bed a little with the force. He doesn’t stop, and starts to build up a steady rhythm of pulling in and out, almost every thrust making Dan moan.

Sucking at Dan’s neck, Phil tries to find the right spot. He angles himself carefully and at the next thrust, Dan lets out a scream that tells him he’s found it. Grinning with pride, he keeps going, pounding into that one spot over and over.

The friction on Dan’s cock from Phil’s stomach is so close to tipping him over the edge, and he tries to hold it back as Phil goes faster and faster. He feels so full, so complete, and he almost wishes that they could just stay like this forever. Reaching down between them, he grabs the base of his cock to stop himself from coming as his prostate takes the full force of Phil’s thrusts, but he just finds himself stroking his cock himself, speeding everything up.

The pressure is building in the pit of his stomach, and he almost has tears in his eyes from a cocktail of the pleasure and the affection. He’s just so damn glad that Phil would want this with him, after everything he’s said, after everything that Dan is. Phil still thinks Dan is worthy, and that feeling makes him almost ecstatic.

Phil’s thrusts become more erratic as he climbs up to his high himself, and he can see that Dan is too. With a groan, he whispers _I love you_ s against Dan’s neck. He tries to hold himself up, but it becomes increasingly difficult as the edges of his vision start to turn white and-

Dan clenches around Phil as he comes, the white liquid shooting onto his and Phil’s chest. For a few seconds, he can see nothing but darkness, feel nothing but Phil still moving in and out of him, hear nothing but Phil’s panting and the rustling of the bed sheets, smell nothing but sex and sweat, and taste nothing but the sweetness of Phil’s kisses.

Phil collapses on top of him, breathing quickly and relaxing his grip on Dan’s hands. Coming round to reality, Dan looks down at him with a glow, his stomach fluttering.

“Did we really just…” he asks, hands reaching down to play with Phil’s hair.

“Are you okay?” Phil whispers with a hint of concern, pulling out and collapsing on the bed next to Dan. He reaches down and pulls off the condom before tossing it in the bin next to him with a small grimace.

“Yeah. More than okay. Thank you for that. Fuck, thank you,” Dan rambles, tears in his eyes.

Phil frowns with concern, reaching over to his bedside table and picking up a box of tissues. Propping himself up on his elbows, he starts to clean off Dan’s stomach, and then in turn sorts out his Vaseline covered fingers.

“I’m sorry. I’m getting over-emotional,”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Phil says, cuddling into Dan by wrapping his arms around the younger boy.

“I still can’t believe how fucking perfect you are. You still want me, even after everything…”

“Dan, it’s not like you’re tainted or something. You’re still my Dan, and I will be your Phil as long as you want me to. You were right, and my Dad was right. We’re not old enough, or mature enough, to know that this will last, nor are we anywhere near being able to actually move away or anything yet, but we don’t have to think about that yet, so I will be here for you as long as you want me to, okay?” Phil lets himself get carried away with his words, and Dan stares at him as he talks, admiring Phil’s lips.

They lie there for just a minute or so in utter silence, staring at Phil’s ceiling. Phil’s finger traces patterns on Dan’s shoulder, and Dan taps his fingers on his own stomach.

“Shit,” Phil murmurs, and Dan sits up, staring at Phil as he falls out of the bed and reaches for his jeans.

“What’s wrong?” He asks hurriedly, second thoughts rushing through his head because _oh god I’m not good enough for Phil_.

“Carrie. She’s the one who told me where to find you, and she told me to ring as soon as I found you. She’s probably worried as fuck,”

“Crap, that reminds me. I needed to check up on Alex like an hour ago,” Dan hisses, grabbing his jeans.

“Fuck, what are we going to tell them?”

“How about ‘I was just having sex with my impure boyfriend for the first time using your condoms’?” Phil shoots Dan a death glare, and Dan sniggers, dialling his mum’s number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i spent so long trying to figure out who would top help me


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sigh this is a bit shit but like im ill and im tired pls forgive me ily

“How’s Alex?” Phil asks as he slips on his shoes. The second Dan woke up he was on the phone to his Mum, and he seems to be in a good mood this morning.

“He’s a lot better. They think he might be able to come home in a couple of weeks. Not that I’m looking forward to that, but at least he’s okay,” Dan says with a shrug, doing up the buttons on his (Phil’s) school shirt carefully in the mirror.

“That’s great news,” Phil says, walking over to Dan and wrapping his arms around the brunette’s waist from behind. Dan giggles and lets his head fall into the crook of Phil’s shoulder.

The pair of them have been in some kind of haze all morning, and neither of them can keep the smiles off their faces. Dan doesn’t even care about the slight pain in the lower half of his body, not when he has the warmth of Phil’s hands pressing against his still exposed stomach.

“Yeah. I suppose. Maybe this brush with death will teach him how to be nice to people,”

“Unfortunately, I highly doubt that. It’s okay, though, I’ll just come and live with you to protect you,” Phil chuckles, leaning forward and kissing Dan’s neck softly.

“You’d end up killing him yourself, you idiot,” Dan laughs, turning around in Phil’s grasp and pressing their chests together.

“Probably, to be honest. At least then he’d deserve it, though,” Phil replies with a shrug, poking Dan’s face playfully. Dan fake pouts and pulls away from the embrace, doing up the final button without letting Phil interrupt him this time.

“Dan…” Phil starts after a moment of silence, and Dan looks up at him from where he’s tying his laces, a small frown on his face.

“I don’t like that look,” he whispers hoarsely, and Phil moves to crouch down next to him.

“Career forms are due in today,”

“I know. Mine’s in my blazer which is in my room, we’ll need to pick it up on the way to school,” Dan grumbles rather emotionlessly, running fingers through his hair once he’s done with the laces on Phil’s spare of shoes. “It’s a really good job we’re the same clothes size, I really couldn’t be bothered to have gotten up early enough to go and get ready at my house,” he laughs nervously, pulling the subject away from where Phil knows it needs to stay.

A hand closes itself over Dan’s, and the brunette stops laughing. His lips quiver a little, and Phil frowns, reaching his other hand over and cupping Dan’s cheek so that he can turn Dan’s head to face him.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry, I’m sorry,” Phil quickly rambles, stroking Dan’s cheek with his thumb.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. God, I look like an idiot again. I always make a fool of myself in front of you,” Dan says, sniffing and using his free hand to wipe away a few stray tears.

“No, you don’t. Don’t be silly. What’s making you so upset, though? I mean, it’s just a form, it doesn’t really mean anything if you don’t want to let it,” Phil says, although he knows that in Dan’s case, that’s not the truth.

Impures don’t have any means of catching breaks. No matter Dan’s talent, Phil knows that society will never recognise it, and he knows that this form is the only real chance Dan has of getting an at least semi-decent job.

“You know what I was considering before, right? Well, I thought that I could deal with it. My whole life, I kind of figured that sex isn’t about emotion. Sex is about needs, and Impures are here to fulfil needs. Impures are the people that clean up the streets, cook in the fast food restaurants, mine the coal. I always guessed that for some people it was more, but not for Impures. And then last night… I felt a lot last night. It wasn’t just because you needed me, but it was because, I think, anyway, you love me. I don’t want to go back to how it was before,”

Dan falls into Phil’s chest. Phil’s mouth hangs open in a small ‘o’ shape as he rubs circles into Dan’s back. He starts to make small hushing sounds, rocking Dan back and forth slightly as he tries to calm him down.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Look, we need to go to school, we can decide on this later. I’ll help you clean yourself up, and then we’ll go and get your blazer and your books, okay?” Phil tries to keep his voice even, but watching the erratic rise and fall of Dan’s chest makes him feel slightly sick.

Dan lets Phil move him, and they walk slowly to the bathroom. Keeping a close eye on the time, Phil helps Dan splash water over his face and get it so that it doesn’t look like he’s been crying, but before they leave the room he makes Dan stop for a moment.

“Listen to me. I don’t want you going back to that either. I want you to be safe, secure and comfortable. I know that’s hard, but we’re going to make sure it happens, together. You shouldn’t put anything down on that form,”

“And if we break up? If we hate each other?”

“I’m not a dick. I’ll still support you, because it will have been my decision that got you into that position,”

“I don’t want to be dependant on you, Phil,” Dan mumbles, fiddling with the buttons on Phil’s shirt.

The last thing he wants is to argue again, so when Phil shakes his head and denies that it would make him dependant on the black haired boy, Dan just shrugs and accepts it. He almost lost Phil a first time, and the idea of pushing him away again makes him feel sick to the pit of his stomach.

Perhaps, he thinks, he can write something down whilst Phil isn’t looking, and that way Phil would think that Dan was doing what he wanted him to, but there would be a second option for Dan if he needed it. At the same time, Dan really doesn’t want to lie to Phil, and he certainly doesn’t want to go into the industry that he fears will just take away everything Phil’s given him.

They walk to Dan’s house relatively quickly, Dan always a step behind Phil. It’s still early, and the sun is still spilling its early rays across the streets. Some of the windows of the terraced houses reflect the colours, and Phil looks up at them with a smile. The purples and oranges bleed together seamlessly, and he reaches for Dan’s hand instinctively as he watches.

The brunette looks up at Phil with surprise when their knuckles brush together, but he doesn’t reject the gesture. He lets Phil loosely link their hands as they continue to walk, Phil with a slight skip in his step. He has a smile plastered to his face, and Dan wonders how he can be so happy after the conversation they had not half an hour before.

Phil’s always happy, though. Dan noticed it shortly after he began to notice _Phil._ The only times he sees Phil unhappy are when either Dan’s upset, or when Phil’s angry, which doesn’t happen very often. Dan wonders what it’s like to have that kind of happy disposition, and whether he would have been more like that if he’d had the kind of life that Phil has had. Sheltered, secure, loving. Three words Dan can only really dream of – and he did, countless times.

He can remember, even as a child, waking up in the middle of the night from dreams where he’d replaced the characters in sitcoms with himself. He can remember having dreams of being in a loving household where his needs are taken care of, and where he’s actually thought of from time to time. He remembers having dreams where his family lived in a slightly smaller house, but a much more comfortable one, on a pretty street where the lawns were all mowed and the houses were all well maintained. He remembers having dreams where he would run around parks with his brother, and where he wouldn’t have to leave the house wearing a bracelet that marks him out.

His wrist feels somewhat naked without it. He barely notices it usually, because he’s just so used to wearing it, but he just couldn’t bring himself to put it on when he went to the lake. He’d kept his head down, so no one had recognised him, but here it’s slightly more dangerous, as everyone knows him, and he hasn’t got anything on to cover his arms.

They turn the corner into Dan’s front garden, and he smiles sadly. Phil drops their hands and smiles warmly at him, nodding towards the house.

“Phil, can you do me a favour and wait outside?” Dan asks quietly, and Phil nods without hesitation. He leans against the gate and lets his eyes flicker upwards, watching the bathroom window.

Dan’s window is at the other side of the house, but Phil can’t help but just keep an eye on the upstairs. It shouldn’t take Dan more than eight minutes, he figures, to get his blazer and books, so he pulls his phone out of his blazer and starts a stopwatch.

The gentle warmth of the sun hits the back of his head and he runs his spare fingers through his hair with a content grin. Dan seems preoccupied, he realises that, but it’s only to be expected considering. Phil knows he has to keep himself happy for Dan’s sake, and he intends on doing just that.

It takes Dan only five minutes and thirty-two seconds to get what he needs, and Phil discreetly stops the stopwatch and puts the phone back into his pocket when he sees Dan hurry out of the front door. His eyes flicker down to Dan’s wrist, and he sees the bracelet back around it, and he ignores the twitching of his stomach.

Reaching out an arm, Phil nods at Dan’s backpack, and the brunette willingly gives it up. Phil slides it onto the shoulder not carrying his own bag, and then he takes Dan’s hand again.

“Are we telling people or are we laying low?” Dan grumbles as they get closer to school, and Phil bites the inside of his cheek.

“I don’t think we need to tell people, but I don’t think we need to hide either. They’re less likely to go up against us if there’s two of us and not one,” Phil says quietly, and Dan nods.

“Sure. Whatever you think is best, Phil,”

Phil swears that he detects a hint of bitterness in Dan’s words, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just squeezes Dan’s hand and keeps his mouth closed.

They turn the final corner before school, and Dan feels his stomach lurch at the sight of the familiar building. He hates the sight of it, but he knows he has no choice in attending. It’s not for very much longer though, he reassures himself. After that, no matter where he ends up, he’ll be away from the people that have made it no secret that they hated him for all of his life.

Together, they keep going, and Dan notices the distinct lack of eyes on him. Everyone seems to be just going about their daily business, ignoring the illegal couple in front of them, apart from small groups of people who are stood about whispering. Still, unlike usual, Dan doesn’t feel like they’re whispering about him, which makes him feel slightly uneasy.

“Something’s up,” he murmurs to Phil, who simply nods. His face is scrunched up a little in confusion, and Dan smiles at how cute Phil’s nose looks when it’s all screwed up like that.

A group of Phil’s old friends is huddled outside of the classroom door, and they all look up the second they hear footsteps coming towards them. Phil catches the eye of one of them – Pj, the only one that he ever liked – and the boy smiles at him, reaching out a finger and beckoning Phil forward.

Phil doesn’t let go of Dan’s hand, although he can feel Dan trying to pull back slightly. He ignores the resistance, though, and keeps walking forward, eyes narrowed.

“Did you hear?” Pj asks him quietly, and Phil raises an eyebrow He looks back at Dan and sees the brunette with a sleeve tugged over his hand, chewing on the fabric a slightly.

“No? What’s going on?” Phil’s friends exchange glances, and then nod at Pj as if giving some kind of signal.

“Jacob’s been locked up. Apparently he ran over a kid, and he was caught on video tape,”

“What kid?” Phil asks, feeling Dan tense behind him.

“Some kid that goes to a school across town. Apparently he died on the scene,”

Phil’s heart stops for a moment, and he just stares at Pj, open-mouthed. Dan tugs on his blazer gently, but he ignores it.

Jacob hasn’t been arrested for what he did to Alex. He hasn’t been arrested to what he did to Dan. But does it matter? As long as he’s gone, as long as he can’t hurt Dan, does Phil care?

Yes. Yes, he does. It isn’t fair that it should have to take the idiot running over a pure kid to actually finally get in trouble, and Phil knows that he’ll probably never be punished for what he’s done to Dan. It doesn’t sit right with Phil, but he knows that it’s better than nothing. It’s better than nothing, and it’s better than what he could have ever hoped for.

Without saying another word to his friends, he tugs Dan away and into the classroom, which he’s happy to find is empty. He throws his arms around the brunette and hugs tightly, making Dan gasp in surprise.

“Phil?” Dan asks quietly, wondering if there’s something that he needs to know about. Awkwardly, he moves his arms a little so that they’re on Phil’s back, rubbing it in circles.

“Sorry. I’m just happy,” Phil mumbles against Dan’s shoulder, and the brunette laughs, pushing Phil away.

“You’re always happy,”

“I’m always happy when I’m with you,” Phil can’t stop himself from saying it, despite how cliché it is, but Dan doesn’t seem to mind.

“And I’m happy when I’m with you,” Dan murmurs.

“You’re safe, Dan. You’re safe,”

Dan sighs and looks down at his feet with a shake of his head. He felt the sense of relief when he realised that Jacob was gone, but he knows someone will take his place. If not at this school, then out in the world somewhere. There’s always someone else around to hate him.

“Not really. Not always. The world is a big place, Phil. This is only a small part of it that might be safe for me now,”

“It doesn’t matter. A small piece of the world is better than none of it,” Phil says reassuringly, grabbing Dan’s hands.

“You’re forever the optimist, aren’t you?”

“And you’re a pessimist. It’s okay though, because it balances out my stupid optimism. Eventually we might get to the point where we’re almost like a normal person,”

Dan laughs loudly, shaking his head. Phil’s transfixed by the dimple in Dan’s cheek, which is practically a crater, and he really wants to lean forward and kiss it. He ducks forward and does just that, pressing his lips to the dent in Dan’s cheek and making Dan giggle in surprise.

“Weirdo,” Dan teases, poking Phil’s side.

They know that they’ve got minutes before they’re ambushed by other kids and their teacher, but they allow themselves a minute to just stand and stare at each other.

They have to hand in the form that’s burning a hole in Dan’s pocket. They know that. They know that if Dan goes with Phil’s suggestion, he’s leaving himself with basically no life, no future, unless things change soon, which both of them highly doubt. They also know that there might not be enough evidence to keep Jacob locked up and out of their lives, and that even if they do, then there might be someone else to come and torment Dan in the same way. They know that the chances of them staying happy for a long time are very small, and that they are probably wasting their time.

But it doesn’t matter. Dan knows all of that, probably much more acutely than Phil, but he can’t bring himself to care at this moment. He’s staring at Phil, and hand hanging onto Phil’s hair, and the pair of them are completely alone in their own private bubble. If he had his way, he would just stay like this forever. For now, at least, this is where he wants to be. For now, Phil is home, and it doesn’t really matter what the outside world thinks.


	22. All I Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> During the piano scene, please listen to [this](http://phanology.tumblr.com/post/88854636974/wholetjackdrive-all-i-want-a-day-to-remember) as you read.

Dan has never been one for believing in miracles.

He never held any kind of belief, really, for a very long time. The idea of religion never sat quite right with him, and believing in the universe and all crap also felt a little pointless. For a very long time, he felt as if there was no point in believing in anything, because who the hell cares, right? No matter whether it was God he believed in, or the constellations in the sky above him, or even someone on a poster on his bedroom wall, none of them would care about him. Small, insignificant Daniel Howell, living his life as quietly as he could, drawing the least attention to himself as possible in order to stay alive. Annoying, waste of space Daniel Howell, with only one friend and no one that he could truly call his family. Unlovable, hated Daniel Howell, living through life with a single relationship under his belt that he’d truly rather forget about, and with no hope of ever entering into another one.

Phil, on the other hand, has always believed in something.

Not a god, per se, although for a long time that’s what he thought it was. It wasn’t for a very long time that he questioned that belief, and even when he did, he never became a non-believer, even if it was never quite a believer either.

Agnostic is the term that most people use for him, but personally he’d rather not put labels on his beliefs – or, rather, lack thereof.

Truthfully, he figured out a long time ago that no one really means anything to any kind of higher power. Meaning is arbitrary, however. He doesn’t care that no one will probably remember him ten, twenty, fifty years after he dies, because that’s not important. The future isn’t important, and life only means what you make it mean. Everyone is important in their own small universe, even if they aren’t to anyone else’s, even if their universe expires the day they die.

That’s what Phil gave to Dan.

Phil gave Dan a philosophy. He gave Dan the idea that even if no one cares, even if the whole world seems against you, life is still worth living. Life is supposed to be lived not only for others, but for yourself too. Keeping your own small universe thriving is the only plausible purpose to human life, and it’s never worth giving up on that.

Dan let Phil into his own personal universe a long time ago, even if it was a struggle. Even if there were – and still are – times when Dan wonders if it was the best decision, he doesn’t regret it for a single second. It’s not as easy for him as it is for Phil to live knowing that there is no higher purpose, but now he has Phil to give him at least some sense of meaning. Phil gives him a reason to keep himself alive. He gives him something to hold onto when he can’t quite grip the cliff himself, and slowly Phil is pulling him back up to the top of it.

It’s not a miraculous recovery. Who could expect that after what Dan’s been through? It’s been sixth months, not six decades. There are always going to be cracks in Dan’s façade, and Phil recognises that, but he’s there to help Dan plug the cracks when he needs it. He’s there to give Dan the motivation to keep himself going, to keep picking up the pieces and to keep allowing himself to heal.

Dan doesn’t live for Phil, and Phil doesn’t mend Dan. Phil teaches Dan to live for himself, and Dan mends himself because of it. Love isn’t a cure for insanity – in fact, Dan is pretty sure they are one and the same. But just the right amount of it, in just the right balance, and it gives one hell of a boost.

They have a mere week left of school, and Phil can tell that Dan is on edge more than usual. He doesn’t claim to understand why, because as far as Phil’s concerned, Dan should be happy that he’s finally getting out of this hell hole, but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he wraps his arms around Dan when he walks into the classroom and sees the brunette sat at the back, his leg bouncing up and down listlessly.

“Hm?” Dan makes the small noise when he feels Phil’s tight grip, looking up sleepily at Phil. He hadn’t noticed him coming into the room, but considering the fact that he barely noticed when he walked into a wall this morning, that isn’t surprising.

“Hey, love,” Phil mumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of Dan’s head before sitting down. He takes one of Dan’s hands in his, holding it loosely, and watches Dan’s face for a moment without saying another word.

One thing that Phil’s learnt about Dan is that the brunette should not be forced into talking when he doesn’t want to. Phil’s learnt to give Dan his space when he needs it, to stop demanding to be told whenever Dan so much as gets a paper cut. It’s a test of Phil’s nature, since he’s practically pre-programmed to check whether the people around him are okay, and to find out why if they aren’t so that he can see if there’s any way that he could help, and he’s still working on it, but he knows that Dan appreciates it, so he keeps trying.

They don’t say anything for a little while. They’re in school early (which isn’t an uncommon routine for them anymore, since they like having a bit of quiet time before everyone else shows up and the chaos of the day begins, although very few people are actually turning up at the moment since really, there’s no point anymore), and they have plenty of time to just sit in each other’s company before they’re interrupted.

It’s Dan that breaks the comfortable silence. He leans back in his seat with a sigh, taking his hand out of Phil’s so that he can rub his eyes as he speaks: “Couldn’t sleep last night. Kept thinking,”

“Dan, it’s been over a week since you slept properly,” Phil replies quietly, a hint of concern dripping at the edge of his words that he tries to keep at bay. Dan doesn’t like Phil pitying him.

“I know. I just… Can’t shut my brain off. Like, my thoughts won’t stop no matter how tired I am. I don’t know if it’s nerves or what, but it sucks.”

Phil bites the inside of his cheek, and he looks Dan up and down. The brunette’s appearance is suffering for this bout of insomnia – his shirt is buttoned wrong, his hair is flat and hasn’t been washed in at least five days, his eyes are hollow and are decorated by large black bags underneath them – and Phil feels his stomach twinge with concern.

“Hey, how about you come over to mine tonight and see if you can sleep then,” Phil suggests, and Dan groans, covering his face with his hands.

“My parents will be so pissed off. I don’t know when they started paying me so much attention, but I don’t think they like me hanging out with you so much. Apparently they’d rather me be home with my shit head brother.” Dan grumbles, yawning at the end of his words.

“Tell them you’re staying round at Carrie’s or something? They don’t mind you staying with her.”

“She’s been off with me, though, and they probably noticed that the last time she came round so they won’t buy it. I mean, I could just ignore them and hope they don’t notice, but they’ve actually been talking to me lately, and I don’t want to fuck that up.”

“Yeah, but Dan… seriously, you need to fucking sleep man,” Phil says a little exasperatedly. He knows that all of what Dan is saying is true, but he’s more worried right now at the fact that Dan looks like he’s about to fall asleep at any moment.

“I know,” Dan concedes, leaning against Phil’s shoulder. He buries his face in the crook of Phil’s neck, nuzzling his nose into Phil’s shirt and taking a deep breath. Phil reaches a hand up and starts to run it through Dan’s hair, trying to figure out what to do.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea. We could just go home for the day. No one’s seen us in school, they’re not going to notice, and they have so many people off anyway that they’re not going to care about the two of us. We can go back to mine and you can get some sleep, and your parents will never know,”

Dan has to admit that that is a very appealing idea. After a few seconds, he nods into Phil’s shoulder, but then he stops and looks up at his boyfriend, “But won’t you be bored out of your mind?”

“I’ll play video games or something and just turn down the volume so it doesn’t disturb you. Anyway, I’d rather you sleep and me be bored for a few hours then have you like this.” Phil says softly, rubbing his fingers in circles on Dan’s back, pressing against the skin through his school shirt.

Dan nods into his shoulder, and Phil smiles, standing up and pulling Dan with him. Affectionately, he curls an arm around Dan’s waist as they start to walk out, Dan’s eyes drooping ever so often.

It doesn’t take them long to get back to Phil’s house. Carefully, he throws the keys onto the side unit and they clatter as they fall onto the wood, making Dan flinch awake. Phil basically carried him home, but he pretends not to have noticed, and simply drags Dan upstairs.

Reaching for the buttons on Dan’s school shirt, Phil raises an eyebrow, seeking approval. Dan nods without hesitation, and Phil starts to undo them quickly. Once he’s done, he helps Dan shrug the material off his shoulders, discarding it on Phil’s floor. His fingers trail carefully down Dan’s bare skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake, and Phil giggles when he notices.

“Shut up, your fingers are cold. You’re like a fucking vampire, you know that? Your hands are always freezing.” Dan grumbles, and Phil just smiles wider, giggles still falling from his lips.

“They should call me Phil ‘Leech Boy’ Lester.”

“Leech Boy?” Dan asks confusedly, and Phil rolls his eyes, unbuttoning Dan’s school trousers.

“Vampires are like leeches, duh. They suck your blood. You really are exhausted, aren’t you? How did you expect to get through even two minutes of school?” Phil’s voice gets quieter as he talks, biting his lip with concern.

Gently, he pulls down Dan’s zipper and helps tug away Dan’s trousers. He knows how Dan prefers to sleep by now – no shirt, just boxers – and he doesn’t even bother to ask whether Dan wants anything else to wear. Instead, he simply nudges Dan towards the bed, and watches as the brunette practically collapses on top of it.

“Your ‘ed i’ much ‘omfier than mine.” Dan’s voice, muffled by the covers, and Phil walks over and gives the back of Dan’s head a quick kiss.

“Good. Now sleep.” Phil chuckles, watching as Dan pulls himself up on all fours and crawls underneath Phil’s duvet.

The younger boy practically builds himself a fort of blankets and pillows, covering himself in all of Phil’s bedclothes. Once Phil has taken off his own school clothes and replaced them with one of his more comfortable jeans and an oversized A Day To Remember shirt, he looks back over at Dan on the bed, and can’t help but burst into laughter.

Dan glances up at him from between the covers, eyes narrowed in confusion. Phil can only just about see Dan’s eyes, round and shining from between the darkness, and the very edges of his fringe. A grin on his face, Phil darts forward and pulls down the sheet covering Dan’s lips so that he can kiss him softly.

“You look like a bear trying to hibernate,” he whispers against Dan’s lips, breath causing Dan to shudder just slightly.

Phil will never get used to the feeling of his heart flipping whenever he kisses Dan, and it leaves him a little breathless every time. It often seems to have the same effect on Dan too, and this is no exception. Phil watches for a moment as Dan just stares into Phil’s eyes, his mouth hanging slightly open, waiting for the reply that he knows will come.

“Okay. So you’re a leech, and I’m a bear. The Bear and The Leech. That sounds like a title of one of those really shitty fanfictions I read the other week-”

“Jesus Christ, I really do not need to know what weird bandom you’ve been diving into this time,” Phil laughs, pulling away, “Still, I think that Bear is a cute nickname. I might keep that one.”

“Only if I get to call you a leech occasionally,” Dan groans, turning around so that he’s not facing Phil.

“Deal.”

Phil expects Dan to make some other retort, but all he hears in return is soft breathing. Smiling to himself, he settles down, sat on the floor at the end of his bed. He leans his back against the mattress, closing his eyes for just a moment and listening to the sound of Dan’s breaths. Every ten to fifteen breaths or so, he hears a small snort, not quite loud enough to be considered a snore, but adorable enough to make Phil’s heart warm a little.

Entertaining himself has always been one of Phil’s skills, so he barely notices the hours passing as he plays video games, listening absently to Dan’s breathing. He doesn’t notice the bed shifting either, and so he screeches when a finger pokes at his ribs, making him fall over.

He gasps for breath, staring up at his attacker. All he finds is Dan, his eyes still a little sleepy but a much more refreshed smile plastered on his face. Phil growls, and Dan knows that he’s done for.

Without warning, Phil’s hands dart forward, reaching straight for Dan’s sides. The brunette squeals, falling backwards and narrowly missing hitting his head on the side of Phil’s chest of drawers. Giggles spill from his mouth as Phil attacks expertly, finding all the places where he knows Dan is the most ticklish.

“Stop, stop, please, it hurts-” Dan pleads, but Phil doesn’t relent quite yet. He grabs Dan’s leg in his hands and then holds it tightly with one arm, using the free one to start tickling Dan’s foot.

That really makes the brunette scream, and Phil can hear him gasping desperately between shouts and giggles, making him almost sound like he’s hiccupping. Phil’s not cruel, so he stops when he can see Dan going a little red, and helps Dan sit back up again.

“Morning, Bear.” Phil whispers, and Dan rolls his eyes at the grin, still panting to try and get his breath back.

“That one’s gonna stick isn’t it?” Dan asks, without the trace of annoyance that Phil expects.

Nodding, Phil reaches forward and tangles his fingers within Dan’s hair, relishing in the feel of the soft hair beneath his fingertips. “Did you sleep well?” He asks quietly, and Dan nods too.

“Yeah. I don’t feel like a corpse anymore. I think having you here helped. I’m kind of scared to go to sleep at home. I’m not brave enough to sleep with my brother getting hammered every night.”

“I wish I could be there every night so you don’t have to be brave.” Phil says, and Dan’s heart starts thudding faster in his chest.

Small things like that are what makes his and Phil’s relationship, he thinks. Neither of them are particularly fond of grand romantic gestures – the closest Phil’s ever gotten was punching out Jacob, and the closest Dan’s ever gotten was that one time he took Phil to the cinema, only to realise that he’d run out of money so Phil had had to buy the snacks – but they are good at little things. Sometimes they will say something that simply makes the other melt, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Phil’s about to lean in to kiss Dan again when he’s interrupted by the sound of Dan’s ringtone. He jumps back a little, head snapping to face the source of the noise, and then he looks right back at Dan.

“What time is it?”

“Uh, just gone three? Why?”

“Shit,” Dan mumbles, clambering over Phil’s legs and the various items scattered around the floor (including a plate, an empty crisps packet and a half-full bottle of coke, all of which Dan assumes were part of Phil’s lunch).

He pulls the phone out of his trouser pocket with a small yawn and looks down at the caller ID. Of course, he isn’t surprised, and he answers it without hesitation.

“Where are you?” The voice at the other end of the line immediately snaps, and Dan flinches, turning away from Phil so that the black-haired boy can’t see his reactions.

“I’m at Phil’s. Sorry, I was tired, I forgot to be home.” Dan mumbles, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. He hears a soft sigh at the other end of the line.

“Oh, okay. Sorry for snapping, Dan, I’m just… I have something to tell you, but I think it needs to be in person,” Carrie says quietly, her voice going back to her usual tone. Dan frowns, feeling his stomach turn a little.

He’s been expecting something like this. She’s been getting distant with him lately, barely coming to his house, not answering his calls. It has been over a month since they last went to the lake, and he’s starting to wonder if becoming friends with Phil pushed her away, or if she’s finally gotten sick of him and she wants nothing to do with him, but is too nice to say it like that. His mind races to the number of different conversations that she could want to see him for, and all of them would end up with him sobbing into Phil’s shirt.

“You can come to Phil’s?” He says. If she does tell him to piss off, then he knows that he’s going to need Phil as close as possible.

“Sure. I’ll be there in ten, okay?” She asks, but doesn’t give him chance to reply before hanging up the phone.

He sits there staring at his phone for a moment, chewing on his lip. He’s only snapped out of his thoughts when he feels those infamously cold hands brushing against his sides, accompanied with lips pressing against the base of Dan’s neck.

“Do you mind if I borrow some clothes, Phil? Carrie’s coming.” He says quietly, and Phil doesn’t reply.

Dan feels his presence move, though. He doesn’t have to turn around to know that Phil is getting clothes ready for Dan, and he isn’t surprised when a small bundle of them lands in his lap.

Phil simply stands there and watches as Dan gets changed. He pulls the old shirt over his head and tug on the skinny jeans, fingers fumbling with the buttons. Phil would usually intervene and help, but he can tell that right now, that isn’t what Dan wants. This is one of those situations where Phil has to just sit back and let Dan think, and Phil knows it.

He’s surprised when Dan pads over to him and throws his arms around his neck. Frowning, he wraps his own arms around Dan and waits for the boy to say something, feeling his chest tighten at seeing Dan like this.

“She hates me. I know she does. She’s going to tell me to fuck off, like everyone else did, and then-”

“Dan. No, she doesn’t. She loves you, you know that. And I love you, so even if that is what she wants, which it won’t be, then you’re not going to be alone, alright? You’re gonna be okay.” Phil reassures, slipping his hand up Dan’s shirt so that he can massage Dan’s skin directly.

“She used to love me. I know that she used to have a crush on me, I couldn’t miss it. Fuck, do you know how long I spent hating myself for not being able to be with her? I wanted to be straight, or at least bi, for so long after I realised. I wished that I could make her happy.”

Phil squeezes a little tighter, but he doesn’t say anything. He can’t, all he can do is stare at the opposite wall in shock, his mouth hanging open a little.

Honestly, he’d always thought that Dan was completely oblivious to Carrie’s feelings. The brunette at least always acted like he was, and Phil just assumed that it had never even occurred to Dan to contemplate the possibility. He’s not even sure what he’s meant to say now that he knows that isn’t true, but he doesn’t get the chance to think of a reply, because the door opens before he can.

“It’s a really good job you gave me a set of keys, Phil, since you guys never answer the do- What’s wrong, Dan?”

Dan pulls straight out of Phil’s arms and turns to face his friend, forcing a smile onto his face. Neither Carrie nor Phil is fooled for even a second, and they both pass each other a glance.

“Dan?” She asks again, reaching forward and lightly gripping his arm.

Phil sees the hurt flash over her features when Dan snatches his arm away in very much the same manner that he did to Phil when they first met.

“What do you want, Carrie?” Dan grumbles, retreating back towards Phil again and pulling Phil’s arm up so that it’s wrapped around his waist.

“I just… I just wanted you to know that the reason I’ve not been hanging out with you so much hasn’t got anything to do with you. I’ve really missed you, to be honest, Dan. But I…”

“But you want to stop being friends? I guessed.” Dan’s voice isn’t even a ghost of what it usually is, and Phil can practically hear Carrie’s heart shattering. The look that passes across her face isn’t something he ever wants to see again, and he has to turn his glance away for a moment.

“That’s what you think? Fuck. Fuck, Dan.” She runs her fingers through her hair, displacing the curls. Her other hand goes up to her mouth and she bites it, as if trying to stop herself shouting at him.

“It’s okay, I get it. I really do. I pushed you away when I met Phil, and I’ve always been-”

“Dan, this has got nothing to do with you. Stop being so fucking selfish and listen to me!” She snaps, her hands jolting to rest on her hips. “I have a boyfriend, Dan.”

It’s not exactly what Dan expected. In fact, that’s an understatement. That’s about the last thing Dan expected, especially with the shame written all over his friend’s features.

“Carrie!” He squeals, running forward and wrapping his arms around her tightly.

From behind Dan’s back, Phil beams at the pair of them. He can see the conflicting emotions on Carrie’s face, and he understands, he truly does. Falling out of love is much harder than falling into it, and he knows that she’s probably confused as hell over what she truly feels, and whom she feels it for.

“That’s great! Why didn’t you tell me? Who is it?” Dan starts to ramble, a thousand questions spilling from his mouth without a single answer from Carrie. He pulls away from the hug a little flustered, staring at her expectantly.

All she manages to mutter is: “His name is Chris.”

Dan grins at the name, and hugs her again, his heart thudding quickly against his ribcage. He’s not sure what it is that be feels giddy from – relief, perhaps, of finding out that his only long term friend doesn’t hate him – but he does know that he wants to hug her like it’s the last time he’ll get the chance.

“Jesus, Dan. You’re going to squash me.” Carrie laughs quietly, nudging Dan away.

Dan moves, and looks back at Phil with the same grin on his face. Phil smiles back at him, of course.

“Phil… Do you mind if I have a word?” She asks, and Phil’s mind flashes back to the conversation that they had all those months ago. He remembers how bitter her voice had been, how her hands had been trembling slightly as she’d rummaged through Dan’s cupboards. His blood runs cold at the idea of repeating that conversation, but he doesn’t refuse her.

They stumble down Phil’s stairs, leaving Dan buzzing around upstairs getting a video game ready. Gesturing to the open door of his living room, Phil nods at her, and she smiles, walking into the room with a light spring in her step.

“Thank you,” she says breathlessly the second the door is closed, and Phil opens his mouth to ask what on earth she’s thanking him before, but she continues before he can, “thank you for helping him. It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen him actually get properly happy about something. And thank you for helping him build himself back up again. And thank you for loving him.”

“I don’t under-”

“You haven’t just helped him, y’know. I was getting close to breaking point with him before you showed up. Frankly, trying to look after him was testing me more than I’d like to admit. So thank you, because you helped me a lot too.” She throws her arms around him without hesitation, and he just stands there in a stunned silence.

After a few seconds, he puts his arms around her too, and squeezes a little. She’s small in his grasp, fragile almost, but he gets the sense that she’s far from breakable.

-

The thing is, philosophy really counts for little. It is one thing to have a set of principles, and another entirely to live by them.

So why is it, then, that humanity is so obsessed by it? Dan isn’t sure that he’ll ever know, if he’s honest. In fact, there are a lot of things that he thinks he most likely will never find out. There is so much knowledge out there, and it is impossible to know everything about the world surrounding us, especially if you’re just a small impure boy.

What Dan does know, however, is that music is a cure for almost anything.

He plays for Phil a lot these days. He practises for hours, spending all the time he doesn’t spend with Phil or Carrie on the piano instead.

There’s no school anymore, which scares him a little. He isn’t entirely sure what he’s going to do now, if he’s honest. He knows that technically he should go back next year, but he doesn’t have to, and he thinks that Phil is planning that they don’t. Phil has his first work placement if he wants it, so he doesn’t need to go back, but truthfully Dan has nothing, and he knows it.

Well, nothing but the piano in front of him. He presses the keys down as easily as if it were simply breathing, the melody flowing from them smoothly. He’s almost ready to play the song for Phil, and he can’t wait until he sees the way Phil’s face lights up when he does. It’s one of Phil’s favourites, and it reminds Dan of Phil every time he hears it.

It didn’t take him much to figure out how to play it with his musical ear, but perfecting it was more difficult. He doesn’t want to play it half-heartedly; he wants to give it everything he’s got. If he doesn’t have much left, then he figures that he might as well put all his energy into perfecting the things that he does have.

“All I want…” he sings along softly to the occasional part of the tune. He’s not exactly a talented singer (far from it, in fact, if Phil’s reactions to his shower singing are anything to be judged by), but sometimes he loses himself a little in the words. They mean a lot to him as well as to Phil, and he knows all of them like the back of his hand.

He hears his front door open, and he grins when he realises that it must be Phil. His parents and his brother are on holiday, so it’s the first time in ages that they’ve been able to meet at Dan’s instead of Phil’s. Dan’s mostly looking forward to it because it’s the first opportunity they’ve gotten to play in a while too, and the combination of music and Phil, his two favourite things, is incredibly precious to him.

“Hey, Bear.” Phil says when he raps on the door with the back of his knuckles. He doesn’t wait for the invitation to come in as he knows that Dan is expecting him, and just skips straight into the room instead, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Dan.

“Sit.” Dan tells him, gesturing towards the dining room chair that he’d brought up to sit next to his piano stool.

Phil does as he’s told, and reaches forward to press a couple of the keys, but Dan slaps his hands away, mumbling ‘later’ under his breath. A confused pout on his face, Phil sits back in his seat and watches Dan’s fingers, waiting for the brunette to start playing something.

Dan has to take a deep breath before he can start playing, but the second he does Phil’s stomach flips. He watches with mouth hanging open as Dan plays his favourite song whilst miming the lyrics.

Phil stares at the boy in front of him. He remembers how Dan was the first time that he truly noticed him – sore and curled in a ball on a bathroom floor. That’s a world away from the Dan he sees before him now, confident enough to tell Phil no and strong enough to keep living.

The notes bounce around the room, off the windowpanes and the walls and back to Phil’s ears. He finds all his breath being taken away from him as he stares at Dan’s gorgeous profile. The brunette has his bottom lip tucked between his own teeth as he concentrates, and his eyes flutter open and closed with the progression of the music.

All Phil wants is for somewhere to call home, and it’s the strangest thought to him that he found it in such a broken form. Truthfully, his love for Dan is so far away from anything he expected, it’s so far away from society’s perception of the stupid emotion. But together, they reinvent love. They create their own world with their own rules, where they are safe and secure and where they always will be.

The final chord plays. To hide the tears brimming in his eyes, Phil keeps his eyes on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only the epilogue left now!! i'm really sad that we're nearly at the end, but at the same time it's been an amazing journey and i'm so thankful for all the amazing feedback on this fic!   
> also have no fear, i will be back ofc. my next chaptered fic will be based off Panic! At The Disco's Northern Downpour, and if you follow me on my tumblr (phanology) then you'll get all the updates on when that's going to start being posted.  
> thank you again ily <33


	23. Swing Life Away

Silent prayers of thanks are on Phil’s lips every night for the gift of Dan’s smile.

It’s a thing of beauty, it honestly is. To Phil, the two most beautiful things in the world are Dan’s smile and the smile of the little girl holding his hand.

It used to be hard to get one out of Dan, but now Phil will just turn around at the most random of moments and see Dan with the corners of his lips turned up into either just a small smile or a wide grin. Occasionally, Dan catches Phil’s stare and looks back at Phil with his smile getting even wider, reaching out a hand to lace his fingers with Phil’s.

All these years later, and every touch still makes Phil feel slightly dizzy.

He’s going to go and see Dan perform live for the first time later this evening, and every time he thinks about it his heart starts to beat a little faster. Sure, he’s had his own private concerts from Dan ever since they met, with them increasing in number hugely when Dan got his first chance to go on a stage, but he knows that this will be different. Hundreds, thousands of people will be sat there around him, each of them watching his Dan with intent eyes as his notes ring out through the crowd.

Of course, he’s taking the little girl who holds his hand right now with him. She wants to see Dan as much as Phil does, he thinks, considering how she’s bouncing a little more than usual with every step as they walk towards the car. Technically, she’s more than old enough now to make the journey without holding one of Dan or Phil’s hands, but the neither of them can ever bring themselves to begrudge her the loving action.

She clambers into the car on her own. Phil watches her, making sure that she doesn’t get her dress caught on anything, and in the back of his mind notes how similar she looks to Dan, as he has done a thousand times before.

She’s not theirs biologically, of course. But they saw the opportunity when Alex ended up with a pregnant girlfriend that couldn’t care for a kid any better than he could, and they took her in as soon as they could.

It was a nightmare getting it approved. Their marriage is legal now, and has been for the past two years (they were one of the first couples to take advantage of the new law, tying the knot the second that the law was put into practise), but they’ve had her since before then, and trying to convince a prejudice government agency to put a kid into a relationship that they classed as ‘unstable and unconventional’ was near impossible.

They had the law on their side, though. Phil also had the rather sizable about of money that he’d already saved up (their expenses barely touched the amount that he earned in his rather high-paying job as an accountant), which helped pay for the lawyers who were to enforce those laws. She was their family, and there was no one else to take care of her with Dan’s mother dead and his father suffering from Alzheimer’s. The judge had to agree (despite the fact that both Dan and Phil saw him looking at them with a wary glint in his eyes) that it was the best for her.

By the time the proceedings had ended, she was just scraping one year old. Now she’s coming up to six, and Phil’s barely getting used to the school routine. He’s picking up fewer hours and bringing home smaller pay cheques, but it’s not an issue now that Dan is selling albums and attracting huge crowds. Phil had no idea the kind of market there was out there for piano music, but their joint bank balance doesn’t lie.

He climbs into his own seat, and looks over his shoulder at their daughter with a smile on his face. “Make sure you put your seatbelt on.” He tells her, and she nods fervently, searching for the buckle with a little pout on her face that he’s pretty sure she copies from him. If she does, then she must be one smart kid, because it’s the one look that will always get Dan to give into almost anything Phil wants.

Once she’s safe, he quickly pulls out of their drive. They have plenty of time to get there, but Phil hasn’t seen Dan this morning (he had to rush off early to work and leave Dan still sleeping), and he wants to find him before the show starts.

“Daddy,” his little girl begins and he smiles.

“Yes, princess?”

“Y’know Dad’s gonna be on TV tomorrow?” _Oh yes, I know_ , Phil thinks. He’s the one that’s been convincing Dan that he can do it every time the brunette has doubted himself over it. It’s been in the workings for months, and when it finally came through as confirmed Phil doesn’t think he’s ever seen Dan as scared, apart from when they brought home their daughter for the first time.

“Yeah. What about it?” He asks.

“Does that mean we’re gonna be famous?” Her little inquisitive voice makes Phil laugh.

“No, sweetheart. It’s just an interview. Although you know that your Dad’s pretty famous anyway.”

Perhaps that’s a slight exaggeration. Dan is popular in certain circles, not famous. Most people do not know his name, and Phil knows that Dan would rather keep it that way.

“Oh. Why is Dad going to be interviewed, anyway?”

Phil tightens his grip on the steering wheel and bites his bottom lip. They’ve tried for a long time to refrain from explaining just what makes the random people in supermarkets raise an eyebrow at Dan and Phil holding hands. Both Dan and their daughter have one of those damn bracelets on their wrists to mark them out, and when asked Phil always explains that it’s just something some kids have to wear, that they’re the special ones. She always retorts by saying that Phil himself is very special, and therefore why doesn’t he have a bracelet like her Dad, but Phil will send her away with a sad smile.

It’s not a world he likes bringing her up into. He hates having the knowledge that even now, even with marriage equality and huge marches and charity campaigns and ever-growing public support, neither his husband nor his daughter are safe.

That’s what this interview is for, though. It’s their (well, Dan’s) small opportunity to try and make a difference. Explain what impure life is like, about how the whole deal works. Say a few words about how not having pure genetics does not mean that you are inferior in any way. Answer a few poorly worded questions that are perhaps just a little bit offensive. Phil knows that their marriage will probably be mentioned, and that Dan will shift uncomfortably in his seat when forced to explain how he fell in love with a Pure. He also knows that if they ask anything about what it was like growing up as an Impure, Dan will probably bolt off the stage.

They don’t talk about it much, mostly because Dan doesn’t want to. That doesn’t mean that Phil isn’t there for him, however, whenever he wants to spill his guts about everything he still has bottled up in his head.

There are nightmares. Few and far between, but they’re still there. Dan copes with them by crying for a while in Phil’s arms and then more often than not neglecting to ever talk about them again. Sometimes, he’ll crawl over to Phil later in the day and talk about what he dreams about without letting Phil get a word in edgeways. He explains how it’s usually either the first or the last time, but how sometimes it’s a new time altogether. There are dreams about the strangers in the supermarket who still look at Dan like he’s a piece of meat, and those are the ones that make Phil feel the most sick. Even after all this time, barely anything has changed. Dan still walks down the street on his own feeling like he could be attacked at any second, and it’s not an unrealistic feeling, either. It’s not uncommon to hear on the news about Impures being killed for no reason other than their mere presence.

Things are better for them, but they’re far from perfect. Phil thinks back to his old history class, and how it took decades upon decades for full rights for gay people, or for women, or for black people. It took even longer for acceptance. He takes comfort in the fact that every single one of those movements succeeded in the end, but at the same time, he knows that it’s not realistic to expect it with his lifetime. After all, the kid that ran over his husband’s brother had his case thrown out of court when the judge heard of the circumstances surrounding the event. As long as Alex had genetic connections to Impures, they just didn’t want to know.

Jacob still walks the streets now, Phil expects. He shudders as he thinks about the possibility that he could be found after turning any corner. His daughter could have run past him without a clue who she was near. It’s a sickening thought.

He snaps himself out of his thoughts when they reach the car park for the hall. He realises that he never answered his daughter’s question, but she doesn’t seem to mind too much (she’s far too focussed on her games console to probably have even noticed).

They walk around to the entrance together, Phil showing the security guard the pass that Dan got him. They’re let into the building without much fuss, and then he reaches for his phone, ringing the number that he knows so well he could probably recite it in his sleep.

“Bear?” He asks when the person at the other end of the line picks up, a smile playing on his face. He squeezes his daughter’s hand and looks down at her as he waits for Dan’s reply.

“Y’know, I can’t believe that you stuck with that nickname for all of this time. I dropped yours ages ago.” Dan laughs, and Phil rolls his eyes.

“Tell me that you don’t love it, and I’ll stop.”

“Ugh, you’re mean to me. Are you here yet?” Dan asks, and Phil knows that he’s won.

“I don’t know. Are we here yet, Felicity?” Phil says to his daughter, putting the phone on speaker and crouching down so that she can hear it.

“We’re here, Dad!” She pipes up, and Phil hears Dan gasp.

Of course, Phil hadn’t told him that she was coming. He can only imagine the beam on Dan’s face as he hears their daughter’s voice through the line.

“Fliss! Sweetheart, what are you doing there?”

“Daddy wanted me to come and watch you. Where are you, Dad?” She asks, taking the phone from Phil’s hands.

“Here.” Dan replies, and both Phil and Felicity hear the voice twice. Phil looks up and she turns around to see Dan standing behind them, phone still held loosely between his fingers and pressed to his ears.

“I can’t see you, Dad.” Felicity teases, and Phil groans. Sarcasm must be in the Howell family’s genetics, and Phil has to stop himself rolling his eyes.

She breaks out into a sprint and runs towards Dan, flinging her short around his waist. He giggles, face lighting up into one of those smiles that Phil loves so much, and looks down at her fondly. Phil stands up straight and walks over to the pair of them, leaning over Felicity and pecking Dan quickly on the lips.

“I didn’t get a chance to give you your morning kiss this morning. So here’s an extra one to make up for it.” Phil says when he pulls back for just a moment, and then he leans forward to kiss Dan again, their lips slotting together as they have thousands of times before.

“I love you.” Dan replies, fingers absently reaching up to run through Phil’s hair.

“Dad!” Felicity squeals, interrupting them. Phil practically jumps away, making Dan snort with amusement.

“What’s up, sweetie?”

“You haven’t told me that you love me yet.” She pouts, and Phil groans. Dan just laughs, leaning forward and pecking her forehead and whispering the three little words.

Phil doesn’t know how he copes with the pair of them. They’re as bad as each other, really.

Slipping one hand into Phil’s, and the other into his daughter’s, Dan beams at the pair of them and starts to pull them along with him to backstage. She starts to babble, asking him a thousand and one questions about what everything around them is, but Phil keeps his mouth closed. He just watches as his husband grins like there’s no tomorrow, and it’s a world away from how he expected Dan to be with this interview coming up.

For a moment, she skips off to play on the piano that Dan will use later, and Dan turns to Phil, squeezing his hand tighter.

“Fuck, I’m nervous.” He mumbles.

“About what?”

“Everything. Tonight, the interview tomorrow. The future. Like, what happens when she grows up and she starts to realise that people will hate her just because of who she is? God, I know how that feels. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone.” Dan’s voice is barely even a whisper, and Phil can tell from the slight wobble in it that Dan’s trying to stop himself crying.

“Do you remember,” Phil starts after a few seconds of deliberation, “when we first got together, and I told you not to hand in the form? You were terrified then, I could see it. But it all worked out, right? This will be the same. Besides, no matter what happens, you have me, and you have her. We’ll get through it.”

“You’re such an optimist, you know that?” Dan asks, using his spare hand to rub his eyes. “Honestly, how the hell would I even get through a single day without you?”

“You’ll never have to.” Phil tells him assuredly, and Dan simply wraps his arms around Phil in response.

Dan used to be shorter than Phil, but it’s been the other way round for a while now. Phil can’t complain – he loves it when Dan hugs him like this. Most of the time, the brunette is rather reserved with physical contact (understandably, of course), but sometimes he’ll just hug Phil as if he were clinging onto a lifeboat. His arms wrap around Phil’s broad shoulders and his hands find themselves delving into Phil’s hair. He presses himself close enough to Phil to feel every thud of the other’s heart, every breath. For a few moments, they might as well be one person instead of two, and it’s a feeling that Phil relishes in.

Their bubble is broken by the sound of Felicity playing the piano, her lack of experience making the music sound jagged. Phil sees Dan flinch at it and he holds back a laugh at how protective the man can be over his sacred instrument sometimes.

“You should teach her. You’re a great teacher, you know that?”

“Yeah, I’ve been told. But what if she, I don’t know, gets a bit too enthusiastic in the middle of the night and ends up waking us up at three in the morning with that crap?”

Phil rolls his eyes. “Dan, come on. What harm could a little piano playing do?”


End file.
